Nightlife
by dance-tilyou'redead
Summary: Vampire Santana likes the nightlife, Brittany likes to Boogie. "Ew, what? No, not happening. Yeah, I'm Santana and I have a thing for blondes where I can't resist them or their damn jugulars. It's a bad habit that I'd like to break." "Oh, yay Introductions? I'm Brittany and I like San even if she is a bloodsucking fiend. I mean have you seen that ass? Score. And the dimples? Cute!
1. Chapter 1

AN: Mad props to the Co-Creator and Ideas Smith for this little story, naynay1963

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Little known fact: mosquitos fucking love vampires. If I go a while without feeding they'll start to leave me alone but the instant I find a fresh victim it's like Bam! Fucking dinner's up for the flying fiends from hell. Maybe it's the mix of vampire and human blood that attracts them; some additional chemical or heat that I don't understand. Maybe the mozzies just love a chance to drink from their own kind. Filthy little freaks.

With that in mind you might wonder what the hell I'm doing in New Orleans or Louisiana for that matter. I know I'm wondering that. Twenty goddamn years in this hell hole and for what? Quinn thinks the pack is safer here. We're hiding in plain sight. Anne Rice did us a solid by turning our reality(or some white catholic bitch's version of it) into fiction. Now if people see us and suspect something they usually think we're just fans that take ourselves a little too seriously.

Whatever the reasons, they aren't mine and now I'm leaving. I'm sick of the bugs, I'm sick of my pack mates and most of all I'm sick to (ironic)death of the temptations. They're everywhere. These blonde, blue eyed, chocolate treats on legs. They're my weakness and I swear every year there's some kind of mass migration of Norwegians or some shit into New Orleans and into my immediate vicinity.

I've been trying to keep kosher for the last few years(if I had to guess I'd say 23 years?). You know, no humans if I can help it. I mean, sometimes I buckle and get a rasher of bacon(read: blonde tourist) for my breakfast instead of my usual animal blood but I've mostly stayed on track.

It's the 'mostly' that I hate. That last girl I killed is the final straw. She was just cute as a button; eighteen, blonde, crystal blue eyes and a hot body I just couldn't walk away from. Staying here with a pack of vamps that hunt freely and without remorse is not something I can do anymore. I want something else in my life and I can't get that here. I have to leave the pack. I have to leave _her_.

My maker Quinn Fabray, who will always love me; who always has loved me is terrible for my self control. She just pushes all of my buttons and always has done. She can make me do anything. Everything, except love her back. No matter how I break and bend under her will, even under her thrall she can't create emotions in me that were never there.

"You can't keep me here Quinn. I'm not your possession." My chest is heaving, even if I don't need the oxygen. It's a habit from a life I left so long ago, to breath heavily when I'm upset.

"You'll always be mine Santana." Quinn points into my chest for emphasis. "That's the point."

I shake my head, tears of frustration in my eyes. We've had this conversations more times in the past 23 years than I can count; more times in the past three hundred years than I can even fathom.

Quinn just keeps at me, every word punctuated by an insistent tug at our connection. I feel every word of my Sire pull at the eternal ache in my heart. "You leave now, you know we'll just have to follow you."

I try to laugh. "Well I do have that animal magnetism."

"This isn't a joke, San."

"It should be. Haven't you had enough of me rejecting you yet?" I try to joke but everything about her draws me to her and makes me recoil at the same time.

"You can't reject what's in your nature," she spits out with all the spite I recognise from the centuries we've spent together. "You belong to me, not yourself. You're nothing on your own." Quinn's eyes become cold and hard as she watches me finally act on the decision that will rip apart our pack.

I turn my back on her for the last time. "I won't be seeing you again. Please, if you care at all just…"

"Just what? Remember to come get you when you fail at your little experiment?" She's getting desperate. I guess she never thought I'd finally follow through with this.

"Leave me be okay?" I heave my oversized duffle higher on my shoulder and look back at her.

Quinn is pissed. I've finally, completely rejected her. "You can't stay away forever," she shouts after me. "You know that. Even if I have to drag you back here by your hair, kicking and screaming, we'll be together again."

A shudder runs through me hearing my maker's anger. I can't stop though. I need this. I can't keep on like I have any more. I need more than this existence. I needs a life; my own life.

{S&B}

"You don't have to go Brittany. It's not too late to call and tell them you changed your mind. You can stay here with me." Scott's voice is getting that high, whiney quality that I've come to absolutely hate in the last couple of months. I wonder if his balls actually recede in the moments his voice reaches that high.

"I can't just cancel. This is everything that I've been working towards my whole career. You know that better than anybody." I keep gathering up the last of my things and checking everything off my list.

I suppose Scott could send me anything that I leave behind but I'd honestly prefer to just never have to deal with him after this. I triple check my list; I need to make sure my disconnect from Lima is as complete as possible. Even Mom is moving to Florida at the end of the year with her new sexy-times-fellow so with any luck I won't even have to come back to Ohio ever again.

"You know I'll miss you Beetle-Bum. And the dogs aren't going anywhere are they?" There's that ball-break again. How this guy ever got into my pants, let alone my life, I'll never know.

"Wolves." I correct automatically. "And they're nearly extinct so actually yeah they are going somewhere."

I can't help but wonder what would happen if I actually kicked him in the nuts at the same time that he's whining. It would be awesome but I wouldn't want all the dogs in the neighbourhood to get freaked out and start barking. Mr Boots, the Shitzu next door would most definitely be upset with me.

I sigh in relief as the last thing is ticked off and I can zip up my bag. I check the Daisy Duck watch on my wrist. Daisy's looking pretty uncomfortable with one arm pointed at the 4 and the other a little past the 5. I chuckle as always at her posture since it always seems Daisy has to pee at twenty past five. Then I remember my flight time and realise I'm running late.

{S&B}

Alaska is of course as far from Louisiana as I could get without technically leaving the country. Sure it would have been easier to just go to Canada(I can make Visas happen if need be obviously) but they have that whole killing baby seals thing that I just can't deal with so… Alaska. There's perks of course. For most of the year it's frozen and dark enough for so much of the time that I can just kinda wander around. I can keep a low profile and even appear human for a while.

I think it will be good for me to be human for a bit. Keep me on the straight and narrow and all that shit. I've set up an account with the tub of lard that is the local butcher. I had to get persuasive in my own way but nobody else needs to know that do they. Not even the butcher. For now all that matters is that I have a healthy, steady supply of pig's blood and occasionally veal for when I'm over that swiney after burn. None of it really compares to human blood but it'll do. I've subjected my body and my tastebuds to worse things. Especially when I was human.

Keeping up the human colour and human image is important since I'm holding down an actual job now. Me, an actual real life fucking paid job. Who'da thought it right. I guess the 18 months I spent just _existing_ without my Pack got old pretty fast. The oil rig that employs me runs all night and day, pumping hard(wanky). I'm kinda the muscle now. I rocked up in December when half the normal crew had fled for warmer jobs down South and made my demands. Again, I had to get persuasive to pull the job but only cause all the men in charge are sexist fucks who wouldn't even give me the chance.

Now I'm just one of the boys and they don't even think twice about it. Except for when I have to strip down cause of the heat coming off the machines. Yeah, vampires sweat too. I guess my body still needs some kinda temperature control even if there's no actual organ maintenance going on. I try not to think about it too much. For the most part it helps me look more human when I sweat. Plus it's sexy as hell, even if I do say so myself. I mean, come on. I'm a hot latina with great boobs and a rocking, toned body. Picture that covered in dirt and sweat and oil…yeah, exactly. Plus unlike the unwashed miscreants that I work with, I don't smell. I just glisten.

It's only been three months but I'm starting to see a pattern to my day(it's interesting cause I've never had any structure before). I read at night, emerge for work during the day, get blind rotten drunk with the boys and then go to pass out in my own bed like the rest of them do. It's not the most satisfying existence but it works for me.

{S&B}

The one Bed and Breakfast in town is that creepy kind with too many cats. Like, I love cats but when there's already at least four live cat's running around, why is the playful kittens wallpaper needed? Why are all the pillows and throws cat related? Why, oh why is every cupboard decoupaged with yet more cats? It's insane, and not in the good way.

Two days isn't quite enough time for me to become desensitised to the cats and I'm actually worried about the day that I don't even notice the excess of cat decorations. I'm thinking that it's a good thing that I'll be spending eighty percent of my waking hours with wolves. The subspecies of gray wolf that inhabits this area is no more aggressive or masculine than any other but it's gotta be better than all the cats.

"I still like you though Tubbs." I scratch under Lord Tubbington's chin. He must have been tuned in to my less than sympathetic thoughts toward felines. "You're the most noble of all these other animals that's for sure."

Lord Tubbington purrs his agreement.

"I should get out though right?" I ask him seriously. "I should go out and meet new people or something?"

Lord Tubbington's approval is tacit but clear.

"You're absolutely right. If nothing else, then I need to go out if I'm going to get laid at any point in the next two years."

I sigh, trying not to think of my twenty-four months in this little town as a negative thing. I'm here with a purpose and a mission and even a decent pay check for a change. I can't be feeling sorry for myself at only two days in.

Lord Tubbington looks very displeased that I stopped rubbing his fur.

"Don't look at me like that. It'll be better with a few drinks. And I'll be tracking down the wolves tomorrow. I get to learn all their names and record descriptions and characteristics. Doesn't that sound like a blast?"

Lord Tubbington lets out a jaw cracking yawn then proceeds to lift one leg and lick dramatically at his crotch.

"Well, I think it's fun." I pout at him but since he's clearly done with this conversation I go get myself ready. I've heard the Pig Swill Tavern goes off on a Saturday night.

{S&B}

Puck lets out a dramatic sigh when he sees me, "Always a miserable fucking waste when I see you dressed up like this, Lopez. A chick as hot and fuckable as you and you're only down with the taco?"

I roll my eyes and slap at his chest. "Eye's are up here Fuckerman," I say pointing at my face.

He whines pathetically as he finally pulls his eyes from my chest. He's not a bad sort really. He even opens the door for me.

"Ungh! The things I could do to that ass!"

Idiot.

I smirk at him over my shoulder. "You think about touching me again tonight Puck and I _will_ break your pinky."

Puck raises his arms above his head. "I'll be good, honest. I got plenty a wood just with looking Lopez, cause Damn you got that fine—"

"Jesus, let it rest would ya?" I nudge him with my shoulder as he catches up to me on our path to the Pigs Swill.

He's an idiot and I could snap him like a twig(chances are I'll end up breaking his pinky) but it's nice having something like a friend among the humans. I haven't had a human friend in a long time.

"You aiming to score tonight? You've been almost three months you know. You gotta have your eye on someone right? I mean it doesn't even matter if they're straight right. Cause you got all a this working for you." He gestures to my general physical self.

I laugh, wiggling my eyebrows in a way he can take as he pleases. The truth is that for all that I dress up on nights like these, for all that I look like I'm on the prowl with my tight, short dress, leather fuck-me boots and jacket it's actually the opposite that's true. I aim to look like a player so that no one will try and play me. I look like I have my choice of anyone in the bar which means I can chose to leave alone. I can be close to _people_without being available to a single _person_. It's perfect. It's safe. Safe for everyone.

{S&B}

I actually flat out laugh when I get inside the bar. It's just a hokey as I'd expected and I love it. I know I'll be telling the wolves about it tomorrow. Wolves always have the best laughs. There's one long bar with a row of stools in front of it. Every one is filled with patrons. Some are drunk, some are flirting, some are all kinds of desperate. Some are all three. The most important thing though is that there is a half decent sound system, a passable DJ and a reasonable dance floor. More than I need to get my boogie on.

_Step back Bitches_ I think, only wishing I'd ever say it out loud. I am the hottest dancer in here. I can already feel it and it's usually true. I make a beeline for the bar anyway. An icebreaker can only help after all.

"What are you after?" the bartender asks, his eyes roving up and down my torso.

I resist the urge to chuckle since I'm not exactly wearing anything very nice or even revealing. It's pretty damn cold outside and I'm not ready to let go of my jacket yet even if it is warm inside.

"I think I need something warm and alcoholic." I cringe inwardly, just waiting for the smart ass that's going to take that for an opening. I seriously didn't mean anything by it but…

"I think you just just described me to a T." A guy with a ginger mullet has his arms around me.

"I don't know you," I point out.

"Yeah but wouldn't you like to?"

"Fuck no." The words slip out before I can stop them.

Mullet kid looks decidedly offended. "You little—"

"Get fucking gone Nelson. She obviously isn't interested in pale little gingers with unfortunate haircuts." A new guy arrives and he at least is a bit nicer to look at. Even if he is wearing a member of the Sciuridae family on his head.

"Puckerman," Mohawk guy extends his hand toward me in introduction.

It takes me another beat before I realise he's offering me his name as well as his blackened hand.

"Brittany," I finally return, grasping his hand.

Puckerman grins as he squeezes my hand. He only holds on a moment longer than necessary which I'm grateful for. His hands are warn and more than a little rough. Looking him over I can only guess that he must work on the oil rig that this town is essentially set up to support. I ask him as much and he grins as though glad that I picked it straight away.

"It was the guns wasn't it." He says.

I look down to his waist but can't see any weapons.

Puckerman laughs, "Oh yeah, these babies barely get through airport security." He lifts his arms and kisses one bicep then the other.

He's talking about his arms as guns…

Idiot.

The bartender saves me from having to answer as he _finally_ brings me my shot.

"What is it?"

He doesn't answer just winks at me and refuses to let me pay when I ask him how much. I take my shot without complaint, satisfied regardless of an explanation.

I throw it back and then shake my head back in a loose semblance of a howl. It's not a voluntary response. It's just the burn that runs through me demands a proper tribute. It feels like liquid heat and tastes like cinnamon. It's awesome.

I ask for another shot and then Puckerman orders a whole tray. The bartender winks at me and now I know why I got the free drink. Sometimes it pays to be the only hot, blue eyed blonde for a thousand miles. Although the guy behind the bar is doing alright for himself.

I down my second shot, further savouring the burn. I look over Puckerman again. His arms are bare and his muscles twitching as he makes an obvious effort to keep them tensed at all times. All I really care about is the fact that he can't possibly have gotten here without a jacket yet all he's wearing now is a tshirt. I ask him where the coat check is and when he points out a small windowed office at the other end of the room. I leave him without a backward glance.

{S&B}

For some reason Puck brought over a tray of the girlyest shots ever. Okay, maybe not ever but the girlyest shot I've had the displeasure of consuming in a while. It tastes like cinnamon for fucks sakes. Like, a sweet spice you use in deserts. But whatever cause it's hella alcoholic, Puck is buying and that's the only two things I care about.

"What the hell possessed you to buy this monstrosity?" I ask him going in for my fourth shot from the tray.

"Not what. Who. Is the question that will bring your answer to the place that you want to know the question which is your thing… you wanted to know." He blinks at me blearily. Apparently this stuff hit him pretty hard.

"Okay, so _who_ is the answer to my question which is the _why_ for the drinks that is the ones that you brought here for us. Just now." Apparently I'm a little drunk as well. And this stuff we're drinking is actually pretty fine.

Puck gestures toward the bar then looks confused. "She was right there only a minute ago." He looks back to our tray of drinks which is almost empty. "Or, I guess it was a little—Ooh wait, that's totally her. Cute little blonde."

Oh no. I try to scoff. "There's no blondes for another six towns Puck. Definitely not cute—" and then I see her.

A gorgeous blonde is out on what passes for a dance floor getting all kinds of grind up on three different people. At the same time. There's a couple that I recognise as the husband and wife who run the one gas station in town. The third is the boobalicious brunette I'd indulged in when I'd first moved to town.

The blonde moves in a way that puts every other person in the room to shame. She shines so brightly and moves so fluidly that everyone else moves with all the charisma of a flat, sunbaked roadkill in comparison.

She turns on the spot, hips swaying and arms coming up over her head. Her eyes are closed as she feels the music in the bar like it's swirling around her. I swear I can almost see it. Her eyes slide open and she immediately locks onto me.

Fuck.

"I have to go," I say to no one in particular.

"What?" Puck plutters. "But we just got—ooooh." The sound he lets out is so knowing I can finally pull my eyes away from the dancing, blonde goddess.

"What, Puck?"

"That's your type?" he asks incredulously.

I can't even deny it. This bloodlust, hell this lust is so deeply ingrained in me that there's nothing else I can do. "She's everyone's type Puckerman. Look at her."

"Oh, I'm looking." His eyes rove over the girl who's still eye sexing me from across the room.

I have to resist the urge to rip his throat out for looking at her. If I indulged in that particular impulse I'd have to rip out the throats of every other person in the room.

"Name's Brittany," Puck informs me.

Yeah that fucking helps. Of course she would have an adorably blonde sounding name. I slam down another shot from the tray and get up to leave. The Siren is dancing between me and the coat check so I guess I'll be going home without my jacket. I can't get any closer to her if I want to leave without her blood on my tongue.

Puck just can't take a hint. "Come on Lopez, you can't just leave without—"

The snap of his pinky as I pull his hand from my ass is mildly satisfying. I'm not sure if he actually meant to grab me but with My Temptation still staring into my (questionable)soul I can't really care. I warned him not to touch me.

"I'm out," I say spinning on the spot and moving straight to the door. I might move a little faster than a human should in the crowded space but I can't care. Even amongst all those other hot, sweaty, thrusty warm bloods I swear I can smell her.

{S&B}

"Okay Cornish, I know you want to be the big man some day but fighting with your mother isn't going to help anything. Liza know's what's best." I kneel in front of the young male with a blonde streak down his side.

I'm pretty sure he's listening to me. He usually does, even if he chooses to ignore sound advice. He licks the side of my face and it makes me laugh. He's just trying to distract me but that's okay. I need to get back to recording anyway. I brought my camera and laptop out here for a reason. I'm not gonna risk all this expensive equipment without results.

It took me a solid week to get the pack to accept me being around them. That's slower than I'd like and it was a little disheartening when they'd automatically distrusted me but they came around eventually. I've always been good with animals. I can talk with them and understand them. Not in words of course but we have a certain connection. I can usually bond with even the surliest of critters.

Wolves are my favourite obviously. Which is why after I graduated from my veterinary sciences degree I went ahead and got my PHD on the back of a dissertation on conservation sciences. The fact that I barely graduated high school didn't even slow me down. None of my professors or prac supervisors even knew about my learning disability or the fact that I had to take so many extra credit courses to get into college. All they cared about was whether I got a handle on the material. And since the material was about animals and not a bunch of wars or cooking or anything else I couldn't care about, I was set.

Cornish wanders off to play with his sister Patricia, leaving me to unpack my bag. I've set up a kind of picnic table to keep everything off the ice. I really can't afford to replace another laptop and the University only gives me a budget for one a year. For better or worse the sturdy little machine I've carried into the woods has to last me the rest of the year. One month down and another eleven to go.

I double check the dates as I open a new document to catalogue my images as I take them. I've been running with these wolves for 5 weeks now. It's the most fun I think I've ever had. I document everything I can. If I thought I could do it without dying from exposure I'd sleep out here with them. When things warm up over summer I'll probably camp out in a tent but for now I always have to make the trek back into town before full dark settles in.

I turn on my camera and fiddle with the settings until I'm reasonably confident they're about right.

"Okay puppies, now be good for me and don't go licking the lens no matter how tasty it might look."

{S&B}

God I'm hungover. I've taken to drinking at home since the night I saw that blonde; since the night I saw Brittany. The upside to drinking at home is that I'm not tempted by anyone. The downside is that I don't need to stop drinking in time to stumble back to my own bed. I can just keep drinking until I pass out.

This means that even with my vastly superior metabolism I can actually wake up with a headache and a craving for hot things. It's such a human ailment that I'm actually torn between kinda loving it and being utterly disgusted with myself. A month of nightly binges has left me feeling strangely lethargic and a little broke. I also seriously need to get out of here and kill something.

Lucky for me my day off is a snow day, or it's meant to be. So far it's just cloudy with a chance of snowfall. I can go out and hunt without worrying about totally covering up. I can handle the cold better than the heat which means I can go run through the snow in a t shirt and sweats without freezing. As a vamp it's one of the best feelings—outside of feeding and sex—to have the frozen wind caressing my skin. There might also be a little bit of a rush from the danger of running around in the day with only a shifting layer of cloud between me and the charring sun.

I check out my small window to make sure the street is clear. I don't need to gain any kind of reputation for strange behaviour here. Who knows if they aren't secretly hoping for a chance to pull out their pitchforks and bag themselves a beastie. Walking around in a t-shirt and bare feet in the piling snow is one way to gain all the wrong kinds of attention.

I shake out my arms and legs at my door. I haven't tried for a burst of speed in a while. If I don't stretch first I'm screwed. I twist my torso and stretch out my arms. Balancing easily on one leg I bend the other backwards until I can grab it over my shoulder. Then the other way, using the door to brace against.

I look around my empty little apartment. I acknowledge the mess of empty bottles and general unkeptness but otherwise ignore it. I'm so not cleaning today. Today I'm running with some damn wolves.

{S&B}

I transfer the bulk of my files from my camera to the laptop then shut the whole thing down. It'll be getting dark soon and I don't want the wolves running off on me without a chance to keep up. It's hard with the equipment on my back but not impossible when they're just prowling. That's something I don't necessarily share with the other researchers. When they ask how I can possibly track a pack so far I just give them my most vacant smile and tell them I follow my nose.

The truth is I don't just track or follow the wolves. I run _with_ them. It shouldn't be possible. Maybe if I was an olympic athlete or someone who trained for years it would seem normal but I'm not. I'm just little old me. And little old me can run as fast as any wolf. It's fun and totally threw me for a loop the first time I really put myself into the chase.

The first time it happened, I was tracking a pack through the rockies and they caught the scent of a doe on her own. I chose to follow them on the hunt and I found that I was actually running _with_ them. It was absolutely exhilarating. I don't have any explanation for it but, honestly I don't need one. It's just another really cool thing I have with the animals I love.

Before I can get the bag onto my back Lucifer jumps me, knocking me over into the snow with a happy yip.

"Why you lousy little trickster," I laugh as he steps back with his tail waging furiously behind him.

I take up a defensive position as I lean forward with my hands in front of me. If he wants to wrestle, I'll wrestle.

"Come on kid, make it worth my while. Ten bucks says I pin ya in five."

Lucifer grins his wolf grin.

{S&B}

I can smell the wolf pack nearby. I'm pretty sure they've been chilling in the same spot for a while. They might have a kill too. There's some other scent in amongst the familiar ones that I don't recognise. I haven't run with them in a few months but I don't think there could be any puppies.

I pick up the pace, loving that icy wind in my hair and rushing past the bare skin of my arms. My toes dig into the snow and I take a few longer leaps, even swinging between a few branches of the trees above me before reconnecting with the ground. That's something I definitely couldn't do in Louisiana.

As I get closer to the pack the different smells become clearer. I realise with a jolt that one of them is human. I've never seen or smelt a human among the pack before. How is that even possible. Did they find someone? Did someone find them?

I hear a bark and then a woman's scream. It's almost a yelp of what I can only assume is panic. I forget my playing instantly, running as fast as I can toward the sounds and smells of the pack surrounding one defenceless woman.

{S&B}

I giggle as Lucifer gets the upper hand, yelping in surprise as he nips playfully at me. I can almost feel the exasperation of Lucifer's mom Liza as she watches her pup play roughhouse with the human. It just makes this that much more entertaining.

I feel the wind get knocked out of me as he gets another good hit in and I'm on my back on the ground. Suddenly there is a yelp and Lucifer is gone from my chest. I scramble to my feet expecting to see one of the others coming to take over the fight but instead I find a girl.

It's the one from the bar. I'd spotted her hotness immediately that night. I'd never expected anyone as incredible as her to be in that shitty bar or even the town for that matter. I've barely caught glimpses of her coming in and out town with the riggers yet here she is standing between me and Lucifer in what can only be described as a defensive crouch. A feral growl is coming from her that makes goosebumps rise on the back of my neck. It's totally wild, ferocious and completely inappropriate.

Lucifer looks a little confused and hurt. His mother and the rest of the pack are circling around behind him and it makes me feel tense with worry. No one needs to be hurt.

The Wild Girl looks even more feral than the dogs do. Her hair is a tangle of windswept strands. The bottoms of her sweatpants are soaked from the snow above her bare feet and her back is somehow drenched with sweat. She must be freezing but she's certainly not showing any signs of it.

The growling stops as she turns to look at me. Her eyes go wide as she sees me. "Brittany? What are—run."

"Wait how do you know my name?"

"Really? This is what you—"

Liza shifts so she's standing in front of her pup, the hackles raising on the back of her neck. If The Wild Girl had hackles I'm sure hers would be up to. This is getting out of hand.

"Wait, don't—" I take a step forward and put my hand on the girl's arm. She's just as cold as I'd expect and I wonder if she can feel me at all.

Apparently she can because she flinches from my touch only to press her arm to my stomach to hold me back. "Go now. I won't be able to hold them all off for that long."

I huff out a sigh. "Okay that's enough," I say loud and clear so that there are no misunderstandings. "No one is holding off, no one is biting and_everyone_ needs to stop growling." I take several deliberate steps around The Wild Girl putting myself between her and Liza's pack.

The wolves' growling cuts off almost immediately as the group goes back to whatever it was they were doing while Lucifer and I were still playing. The girl on the other hand is much more difficult to pacify.

"What are you doing?" her anger is redirected toward me, though she keeps eyeing the wolves warily.

She's nervous and I guess I can understand that since we are kind of surrounded by animals that are quite capable of being vicious killers. Except Lucifer maybe. He's such a sweety.

This girl on the other hand has some explaining to do. "What are you doing out here? Don't you know what they could have done to you?"

"To me?" she splutters. "To m—Are you serious right now? They could still rip you to pieces." She points toward the nearest animal as though to prove her point. Unfortunately the nearest animal is Lucifer who sits happily by my feet and takes that moment to lean in and lick my hand.

I smirk. "Yeah, vicious killers just waiting to rip my throat out."

"Exactly, and you, you're just…um…Hmm." She trails off awkwardly. Her back finally straitens and she crosses her arms over her chest with the most adorable pout I think I've ever seen.

She's still unbelievably sexy(what, it's only cause I have eyes). The wild woman look works just as well for her as the little black dress and boots did. I lean in to pull a twig out of her hair with one hand while the other brushes some stray dirt from her shoulder. I try not to take it personally when she flinches away from both my hands. I can only assume that she's a little skittish. That would be understandable I guess.

"Who are you?" I don't mean it to come out so blunt but hey, I've spent the last five weeks talking to wolves, what can you expect. "And what are you doing all the way out here? Oh, and your feet. Aren't you freezing?" Apparently my bluntness comes in threes now.

All my questions seem to make her pull up short. "I—I'm no one important." her eyes are so sad, they make my heart ache for this beautiful stranger.

"Someone who'd step between me and a pack of wolves seems like someone to me," I say gently. How does someone even go from vicious defender to a mousy reserve so quickly. I need to understand this.

She tries to shrug like it's no big deal, a scowl marring her expression. "A pack of puppy dogs apparently."

"But you didn't know that."

"It doesn't matter—"

"It matters to me." I cut her off firmly. "Today you're my hero and every damsel should know the name of her rescuer." I let my voice go high and breathy toward the end like a fainting disney princess.

The girl's determined scowl flickers slightly at the edge and her crossed arms finally relax a little.

I hold out one hand. "You already know my name beautiful stranger. It's fair for me to know yours."

{S&B}

I try not to let her words effect me. I need to leave now. I need to leave before I rip her throat out. I mean, it wouldn't be that hard to dispose of the body. I really would't even have to since she apparently likes to keep wolves as company. Well, I do to but I can take care of myself. This girl is… well she's something else.

And she called me beautiful.

Despite every logical part of my brain demanding my immediate departure I find myself still in front of her, still breathing in her scent and for some ungodly reason about to give her my name.

"Santana Lopez," I say, taking her warm hand in mine.

Her eyes go wide at the contact. My hand must be a similar temperature to the snow right now. Why would I touch her? I'm not some babyvamp that can't work out how to pass. It's too late now though. Brittany spins away from me and dashes to a backpack lying on a boulder a short distance away.

I chase after her just in case she has something dangerous in that bag. I don't know what could be dangerous to me but you know, just in case. And it has nothing with me wanting to stay close to her. At all. She pulls out an expensive looking camera and pushes aside a laptop in her hunt, eventually coming back up with a tightly rolled, fleece blanket.

I sigh. "I don't actually need—"

"Shit!" she shouts out in surprise. "How did you…?" she trails off looking back to the spot where she thought she'd left me.

I curse myself for yet another rookie mistake. I moved too quickly and too silently to be human.

Brittany's eyes travel over my body again. I honestly can't decide whether she's checking me out or just double checking that I'm definitely there and definitely real. It's possibly a bit of both. I know I got the vibe from her that night at The Pig Swill. In three hundred years I've developed a pretty finely tuned gaydar and this girl is definitely pinging.

Brittany unravels the blanket with a hurried flick as her eyes get to my bare feet and she remembers that she's trying to get me warm not ogle me. I can't seem to move. I'm stuck to her and I don't know how to get loose.

"Stand still," she says unnecessarily.

Suddenly she is so very close. Her breath is on my cheek and her arms go around me as she wraps the blanket tightly around my shoulders. I'm surrounded by her and I don't know what to do. Twenty something years ago I would have drank her dry by now. Twenty something years ago I wasn't in Alaska trying my best to not eat people.

Brittany rubs at my arms and studies my face. I have to wonder what I look like. I can imagine there would be a certain level of panic and maybe confusion visible.

"I'm just gonna try… Don't freak out okay?" Brittany's voice is low and calming.

I don't know what she's going to try but I suspect it can't be anything that's going to be good for her health.

It's not.

Brittany pulls me closer to her until she can circle her arms around me. She invades my personal space and presses herself against me. She holds me in her arms so there isn't a part of my body that isn't in contact with hers. She's trying to warm me up. It's sweet really. Her hands run up and down my back to generate friction heat and maybe even to sooth me. My posture is so stiff against her.

I can't relax, I remind myself. I need to get out of here and go back to my apartment where I can down a bag of pig's blood then drink myself into an alcohol induced stupor to forget about this amazing, beautiful, caring and spirited girl who smells just so damn wonderful.

I let my head turn just a little so I can breath in the smell of her hair. Underneath is the heavenly scent of her warm skin, her hot blood. I keep repeating three little words in my head the whole time, over and over again.

Don't. Eat. Her.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Mad props to the Co-Creator and Ideas Smith for this little story, naynay1963

* * *

Santana is absolutely freezing. I can feel the cold even through my own layers and I have to wonder how the dismally clothed girl hasn't already frozen solid. Santana won't even take any warmth from me or the blanket. She just stands stiffly in my arms. She was more fluid in her stance when she jumped in between me and Lucifer for pities sake. For my part, I just wrap my arms more tightly around her shoulders, essentially forcing Santana to wrap her arms around my waist.

I feel a small sense of achievement and can't help but smile when Santana finally starts to relax. She turns her head into my neck and I adjust accordingly, patently ignoring the growing certainty that Santana is sniffing me. It's a little strange sure, but then so is running around in the snow with hardly any clothes on and no—

"Oh San, your feet." I exclaim. "Quick, stand up on my shoes. You'll lose toes soon."

Santana doesn't really respond. My hands keep moving up and down her back until they eventually settle naturally and safely across Santana's shoulder blades. With my hands across her back and Santana nuzzled into my neck I can feel a light vibration. Santana seems to be… purring? It's a lot like the sound that was coming out of the her when she first appeared between me and the pack. This is much gentler though and almost… cute?

"Santana?" Brittany calls again.

She must hear me this time because any relaxation that had seeped into the girl's posture is gone. Suddenly my arms are wrenched apart and Santana is standing several yards away from me.

I wince at a sudden shock of pain in my arm. Because of the way I'd been holding Santana my wrist was twisted in the sudden, forced movement. I cradle my arm against my chest, involuntary tears burning my eyes.

"Oh, Fuck. Brittany, I—" Santana is looking at me with horror in her eyes.

I shake my head, trying to reassure her. I glance down and suddenly Santana is right in front of me again, her hand reaching out gingerly for my arm. I could swear Santana is moving faster than I can actually see. Then again, I haven't always been the most observant when it comes to people.

"It's okay, it was an accident," I say, trying really hard to keep any pain out of my voice

"I'm still really sorry Britt. It's my fault I—"

My eyes snap up to Santana's at the shortening of my name. It sounds friendlier and more familiar than we have a right to be in such a short time but somehow it feels right. Come to think of it, Santana has known my name for much longer than I've known hers. I only wish we had met properly on that night in the bar. The way Santana looks at me now, with such warmth in her eyes makes me feel so darn safe.

Santana's eyes grow darker even as I look at her; it's like she's forcing herself to close off and put a wall between us. I hate that look and it actually hurts to see her pull away from me. I find myself mourning the loss when Santana turns away from me altogether.

"I have to go Brittany. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here," she says it so sadly.

I can feel my heart break even without knowing the reasons for the despair in her voice. "Please," I hear the pleading tone in my voice but can't change it. "Let me at least take you back—"

"No!" Santana snaps. Then more softly, her eyes barely reaching mine. "No, I can get back. It's fine."

I shake my head forcefully, "No, you can't even think of going all that way by yourself. Without any shoes you'll—"

"I'll have to walk either way."

"I can carry you," I say automatically. She's so tiny, I know I could.

Santana blinks a few times, her eyes unfocused before she makes another negative gesture. "I need to get away from here." She says it in an undertone, almost talking to herself. She unwraps the blanket from her shoulders and holds it up in a bundle, at arms length toward me. "Thank you but I should…" She swallows again, her eyes not getting any higher than my kneecaps this time.

I look at the fleece and almost laughs at the idea of taking the blanket back from her. "You keep it," I say quickly.

Santana sighs, still not meeting my eyes. She brings the blanket back to her chest but doesn't wrap it around herself again as she moves quickly back into the trees.

"Bye San," I say quietly, even waving at the trees she's already disappeared behind.

I know Santana is already gone. I looks down at Lucifer who huffs into his paws where he's resting his chin.

"What do you think Lucifer? Local crazy or love of my life?"

Lucifer gives me a distinct look.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too."

{S&B}

I'm utterly furious with myself. A little proud since I managed to not *kill* Brittany but still furious. That was the stupidest thing I've ever done. And I once followed the Grateful Dead across thirty three states. For their music.

Nope. As I close the door to my little apartment behind me I know that jumping in between Brittany and a bunch of wolves was *the* stupidest thing I have ever done. Knowing I'm an idiot and actually doing something about my idiocy are of course two very different things. I've never been particularly good at self control. Even when I was human.

That's why it only takes me about five minutes of pacing before I'm in front of my computer googling Brittany and wolves. Unsurprisingly my search comes up with nothing useful. I don't even know her last name. How can I even begin to find her online?

The paper. I open up the woefully maintained Courier website. Thankfully a little council money got the paper databased so there's at least a catalogue of back issues available online. I flick through pages as quickly as I can, cursing the slowness of the website that is undoubtedly freaking out due to the massive traffic through the home page. Must be at least six people on the site at once; I'm surprised the whole thing hasn't—

Oh, there she is.

I can only roll my eyes at how absurd these small towns can be. A new person arrives and she makes the newspaper. She's not famous or especially important. Sure she's smart, which is more than can be said about ninety eight percent of the town and beautiful to boot. Still, one Brittany S Pierce from Columbus U arriving for the sole purpose of studying wolves should hardly be a news worthy… oh, now I get it.

She's researching those wolves. She must have been following them around and integrating with the pack since the day she arrived. That would explain the familiarity I saw. The wolves acted like I was the intruder until she told them otherwise. I'm actually kinda hurt by how they treated me. They're usually pretty cool about letting me tag along. I guess they've got a new favourite human to hang out with. Or at least a new favourite two legged…whatever. Since I'm not exactly human am I.

I realise as I'm lifting the fleece blanket to my nose that I'm still holding it. I may even have been stroking it a little in my lap while I sit and look at the staff photo of Brittany on the university website. I wish I could push the fuzzy thing away from me, just like I wish I could just forget about the damn girl but I can't. She's already crept under my skin.

It's not even just about the hair or the eyes anymore. She's not just another girl that I need to drain. She's… a friend? Some friend. I've only known her for an hour; a month if I'm generous and include the night I saw her in the bar. She's more than just another girl though.

I read her bio on the university website. I scroll through her hilariously open Facebook page and old myspace account. I look through her friends and old boyfriends and—

Oh, god. I'm a fucking stalker. I pull my hand down over my eyes as I consider what I've been reduced to. I used to be a ferocious killer. Hell, I had a reputation once upon a time. Like, people literally knew my name. Not that anything like that could happen now. The cops would have me in a heartbeat. They're a little more efficient these days than the old lynch mobs of centuries past. It's best to just blend in and keep my head down.

Unfortunately, keeping my head down right now involves burying my face into a polar fleece blanket. It's even covered in some kind of giraffe print(just to add insult to injury) but it smells like a specific, blisteringly smart blonde who says my name with the sweetest little lift at the end. The way her eyes bore into mine shouldn't be allowed. That's my thing. I remember a time when I could make any girl fall in love with *me* by staring into her eyes. Now I'm the one falling—

No. Absolutely not.

God, if Quinn thought I was going soft twenty something years ago then I can't imagine what she'd think of…Hold on one flaming fucking second… I open up Brittany's Facebook page from where I've bookmarked it in my browser(I know, I know). I check her birthday which is on full public display because apparently this girl has never heard of identity theft.

If I had a beating heart on a regular day I'm sure it would be hammering right now because I think I just connected some dots to make one lame ass, fucked up little picture. I grab up my phone and hammer out the digits for one Mike 'Remembers All Kindsa Useless Shit' Chang.

He picks up after a few rings and I pray I didn't interrupt anything between him and Lady Chang cause I'm pretty sure Tina would actually hunt my ass down just to spite me.

"Mike speaking." Always so damn polite.

"Seriously? That's how you answer the phone? You do know your a vampire right? Not George W's secretary."

"Santana?" There's a fumbling sound like Mike might have dropped his phone.

"No, this is your mother," I say in my best deadpan.

"Holy shit Santana. Do you have any idea what we've been thinking? Quinn wouldn't tell us where you'd gone. We didn't know if you'd baked or what. Where are you? We'll com get—"

"Woah, steady on Boy Chang. You thought I'd baked? I mean, I like going out on cloudy days and all… but the sun is a whole other deal." I act insulted but I knew they'd assume I'd faced the sun if I disappeared. It's how it usually works for vamps if they start getting guilty about taking human life. I guess I'm just a little more evolved than them.

"Don't joke San." Mike's voice is serious and now I can hear Tina on the other end.

I sigh. "Look, I'm sorry I disappeared on you."

Another pause. "That's… okay Santana, we're glad you're okay." He clears his throat at the other end. "I don't suppose you're gonna tell us where you are?"

I feel a little stirring of emotions because Mike really does know me better than anybody but I squash those stupid feelings down. "No, I um… Have a question for the master of trivia. You ready?"

"Shoot."

I smile because Mike is a good friend. "You remember when I first told you guys that I was giving up warm bloods?"

"Humans?"

"No, donkeys," I scoff. "Of course humans. What was the date?"

Mike makes that funny humming noise that means he's sorting through some hundred and eighty years of memory. "It was in eighty seven, I know that much. I'm gonna go with October third."

I triple check the date on Brittany's Facebook page and of course it's September third, exactly one month before I told my Pack I couldn't keep killing humans. September third: the exact day I woke up knowing without a doubt that my immortal life was permanently and irrevocably changed.

"Why do you need to know?" Mike asks.

"I um, guess I was hoping for an anniversary or something." My words don't make a whole lot of sense, even to me.

Mike, because he's awesome doesn't question me. "Be careful okay."

"Yeah I will," I give him the answer I know he needs to hear. "Do me a favour Mike?"

"Yeah San?"

"Don't tell Quinn."

"Okay, I won't." Mike gives his word and I know he'll keep it. Quinn didn't sire him but more than that he's a good and loyal friend.

"Thanks Mike. I'll talk to you some other decade yeah?"

Mike hesitates, but only for a second. "Yeah, some other decade."

"And Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Make sure you give girl Change a little something something for me tonight won't you?"

"Jesus San..." Mike laughs.

"I heard that." Tina's voice calls out faintly in the background.

I laugh as I hang up the phone. Those guys are awesome.

I close down the window with Brittany's birthday written out in sharp pixels. I grab the bottle of whiskey that's get me through to morning. This is all way too complicated to deal with sober. I start up my iTunes with some lyric free shoegazer rifs and lie down with Brittany's fleece blanket clutched to my chest. I press my nose into the soft fabric and indulge in remembering the feel of her arms around me and her body close to mine.

{S&B}

I inspect the neon orange of my nail polish skeptically and sigh. I've never been any good at painting my own nails and I've done my usual terrible job. I wouldn't bother at all but Kurt insisted. He's cute and gay and his hands are really soft so I kind of like to do things he asks me to.

We've become surprisingly good friends in the few weeks since I moved out of that frightening Bed and Breakfast and into the apartment on Kurt's Dad's property. The apartment itself is a little small but it has everything I need. It's also away from the house enough that it feels like it's all mine so I really can't mind how small it is. Having Kurt as my very own sassy gay friend is like a free gift with purchase. Plus, I always wanted a sassy gay friend.

I make sure the lid is secure on the nail polish and roll over onto my back. Kurt is lying beside me, on my bed reading his newest copy of Vogue or some other fashiony thing. I offer up my hands for his inspection.

"Do it again," he says, barely looking up from his magazine.

Oh, come on. "No, I won't."

"Please Brittany?" Kurt gives me the big, babygay eyes that he knows I can't resist.

"Fine," I huff, grabbing up the polish remover and oversize bag of cotton balls.

He starts humming quietly. The lull in conversation lets my thoughts drift inevitably back to Santana. I need to see her again. A month is way too long between sightings for anything. I know that there are researchers out there who go years without seeing their Great, White Spotted Yetti or whatever but I'm not looking for a Great White Spotted anything. I'm looking for Santana. Sure, I know that she works out at the rig but what am I supposed to do with that information? Go stalk her at work? Yeah, I don't think so.

I've tried to bury myself in the research. I really have and I've gotten more work done in three weeks than I'd expected to get done in three months. It doesn't help though. Every time I see Lucifer's happy grin all I can think about is the way that Santana leapt in front of me and told me to run. She was so fierce. I know, of course that I should be horrified. If Liza's pack was actually something dangerous to me then Santana could have been killed. But all I can think about is how beautiful and wild she'd looked.

"Kurt, do you know Santana?" I'm surprised to hear myself asking.

"Hmm, what?" Kurt closes his magazine so I know he heard me *and* that he knows something.

"Do you know Santana Lopez?" I repeat my question.

"Maybe." Kurt runs his hand over his already perfect coif and rearranges himself on the bed.

I click the lid of the polish remover back on and abandon it on the floor. My left hand can stay polished in orange for now.

"Kurt?" I call for his attention as I crawl up the bed. "What do you know?"

"Not a lot." Kurt's voice is low and conspiratorial like he has some wonderful gossip. As the only apprentice at the only hairdresser in town he usually does get all the gossip first.

I tuck my legs up under me so I'm sitting on my calves and in the best position to reach out and fiddle with his perfectly tailored sleeve.

"Are you going to tell me?" I ask tugging at the cuff of his shirt.

"I could…" He pretends to mull over the possibilities.

"For what price?" I ask straight away. We've played this game before.

"I want you to come out tonight."

For information about Santana? "Done. Now tell me—"

"Aaaand," Kurt interrupts me. "You have to wear the orange top with those jeans I ordered from Sass and Bide."

I groan. "Kuuuurt, come on, the orange one?"

"Yes, the orange one. Please Brittany?"

"The orange one with no back?"

"What's wrong with—"

"The orange one with no back on top of low cut jeans? At Pig Swill tavern," I add, incredulous.

Kurts eyes are all dreamy. I really am his own life size doll right now. "I think you'll look wonderful."

"I think I'll get groped."

"Noah will be there. He can—"

"Puck? He'll be the one doing the groping."

"Not if Sugar has anything to say about it."

"Okay fine but I'm holding you responsible for every greasy paw in that place. Every unwanted hand on my ass results in a Barbra song being permanently deleted from your iTunes account."

His eyes go wide.

I smirk. "Deal?"

He looks torn for a moment. "Deal."

"Now what do you know?"

Kurt must have forgotten what it was we were negotiating because he sits up straight again and leans forward in his excitement. "Okay, so. What do you know so far?"

"Nothing," I say easily. "Well that, and she works at the rig."

Kurt grins, always glad to know more than someone else. "Right. So. She works out at the rig but lives in town. She's been here for about 18 months maybe but she kept to herself for a long time."

I smile because I can imagine the girl I met out in the snow as the deep and brooding, reclusive type.

"Then about four months ago she showed up at the rig, demanded a job and now she works there."

I know Kurt's left out the most important bit on purpose so I'll have to ask. "So, oh wise and informed one. What does she do?"

Kurt gives me a sly look. "You have to wear the Jean Michel Cazabets that I got you from the—"

I flop down beside him and scream into my pillow.

"You said you can dance in anything," Kurt says like he's presenting some irrefutable evidence. "They're only three inches."

"Really Kurt? Should I add a threat to the Idena Mendez collection as well?"

"Don't be an alarmist Brittany. I promise. No groping. I swear on Patti LuPone herself that you shall remain unmolested by unwanted hands."

I lay on my back and throw my arm over my face. "Okay fine, I'll wear your shoes. But only cause I'll look awesome in them."

"That's my girl."

"Now out with it."

"She's a labourer." Kurt picks up his magazine like this conversation is finished. It is so far from finished.

"What? That's it? That's all I get?"

"She lifts heavy things. That's all that I could get from Sugar who got it from Noah since they're dating again."

"There's not some other ridiculous thing you want me to wear? How is that all you know?"

"Well apparently she keeps to herself and I didn't even know you were interested otherwise I would ha—" Kurt cuts himself off and sits up straight, his magazine slapping shut again. "Wait, does this mean that you're interested, interested? You sneaky little—"

"Stop, stop." I hold up one hand to stop his drama before it really gets out of hand. "I'm not saying I'm interested. I'm just maybe interested in being interested."

"But how did you even meet her?" His eyes are wide and curious. I think he genuinely just wants to know.

I'm saved from having to tell him the complicated and confusing answer by a knock at the door. "Saved by the bell," I mutter under my breath.

"I heard that" Kurt says, returning once again to internally critiquing every outfit in his magazine.

I poke my tongue out at him as I flick the lock on my door and pull it open without bothering to check who's on the other side.

"Oh," I let out the breathy note of surprise as I find the object of my thoughts—and now conversation—Santana Lopez on the other side.

I'd feel self conscious about the fact that I'm in my Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms and Tweety tank top but Santana isn't actually looking at me. She's staring at the ground with her arms behind her back. She kinda reminds me of a Girl Scout that's just a little too young and nervous to be selling cookies on her own but is knocking on doors anyway.

She still doesn't look at me as she starts talking. "Um, hi Brittany. I'm sorry to just show up like this but I happened to find this blanket…um behind my couch and I remembered that it was yours and ah…" Her eyes make it to my knees before dropping back down and off to one side. "Like I said, I'm sorry to just show up like this but I happened to find your blanket." She brings said blanket out from behind her back and offers it to me with two hands. "I thought that I should bring it back to you." She just keeps talking and I could swear her words are rehearsed. "So here you are and I'll just leave you to your afternoon." Santana rambles on with way too many words at once.

When I don't take the blanket straight away her eyes finally make it to her own hands then, reluctantly to my face. I smile brightly because I'm so glad to see her but then she looks away so quickly you'd think it hurt her to look at me.

I take the blanket because there's not really anything else I can do. The fabric seems softer than it was last time I'd held it and she seems to have washed it for me. Santana only waits a heartbeat before she turns to leave.

"Wait!" It's a sharp yelp of sound that makes Santana and even Kurt jump(and now I'm very aware of Kurt's eaves dropping). "Santana I wanted to…" I trail off, chewing my lip because I don't know what I wanted at all.

Santana's stopped though and is looking at me(my knees) again. "Wanted to?" she asks in that same quiet, nervous way.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. I gesture behind me into my apartment. "Do you think maybe you'd like to c—"

"No!" Santana shouts, looking terrified.

I feel tears prick my eyes. This is not how I imagined seeing Santana again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Oh god. No, no it's me I'm just…"

We both trail off feeling incredibly awkward.

Santana huffs out an obviously frustrated sigh. "I'm sorry Brittany. I guess—I think it might me safer if you—if I just keep a little… distance or something."

"Or something?" I repeat. I don't have a clue what she's saying but I don't think I like it.

"Yeah, I guess…GYAH!" Santana leaps back, letting out a strangled noise of alarm. "What they hell is that? Britt did you bring a wolf cub home cause I don't think—"

I look down to the warm little body rubbing against my legs. Lord Tubbington has come home and apparently scared Santana half to death. "Woah, woah San. It's okay, it's just Tubbs."

I lean down and scoop Lord Tubbington into my arms. Santana actually flinches. She also looks at the blanket I'm still holding like she wants to snatch it back and out of Lord T's reach.

"Oh my god. That's a cat?" Santana takes another little step back when Lord Tubbington looks at her, a small scowl pulling at his usually happy features.

I look between them, feeling a little disappointed that two of my favourite people are apparently not going to be getting along.

"Yes he's a cat. He followed me from Mrs Harrowitz'. Why? Don't you like cats?"

Santana looks uncomfortable for a second. "I don't think they like me very much," she admits.

"Do you think you could try to get along with him?"

"I—I don't know…"

"Please San?" I put a shameless plea into my voice.

I can practically see Santana break in front of me and I resist the urge to smirk in my victory.

"Okay, I guess so," she grumbles.

"Yay. Thanks San."

I see her lips twitch at the corner like she wants to smile but she doesn't. I put Lord T back on the ground when he starts to squirm. Santana is looking at the blanket again.

"Did you want to keep it?" I ask, holding it out.

She sighs. "No it doesn't really smell—I mean, it's yours so you should keep it." She clears her throat awkwardly before reaching out for the blanket anyway. "Can I?" She's so careful in every move and she still seems to be struggling to look me in the eye.

I give her the blanket which she takes carefully dusting the cat hair from it. It's like she's doting over a small child, making sure it's completely clean before handing it back.

I just stare at it and then her. "Are you sure you'd not rather keep it."

She doesn't really answer, just jerks her head a little and thrusts it in my general direction again.

I take the giraffe patterned fleece and turn back to Kurt who's leaning so far off the bed I'm amazed he hasn't fallen off yet. He almost does when he sees me looking so I throw the blanket at him. It unfurls before it even reaches the bed, flopping to the floor like a fuzzy puddle.

When I turn back to Santana she's much closer than she was before, a look of distress clear on her face as she stares at the blanket. I guess she got kind of attached to it. Is that why she was so awkward in bringing it back? I want to offer it back to her again but a third time might be overkill. Maybe she'll come visit the blanket if I keep it for a while. I smile at the thought.

I lean into her line of sight, realising a little late that her line of sight is actually levelled at my chest. I realise my mistake when her eyes go wide.

I clear my throat and her eyes drift up to my neck. "Um, are you sure you don't want to come—"

"No don't." Her response is the same as before. I guess she really does't want to be invited inside. Maybe she doesn't like small rooms or something.

She takes a short step back. "So, I'll just…" she jerks a thumb over her shoulder then turns awkwardly on the spot by twisting just her boots and letting her body follow.

"Go out with me?" I almost slap my hand over my mouth because I really didn't mean to say that.

Santana stops and her eyes almost make it past my waist this time. "What?"

I try to salvage at least a little bit of my swag. "I promise good times will be had."

"I'm sure they will be," she says in an odd tone.

"So…"

She sighs her sad sigh again and goes back to staring at my feet. "I'm sorry. I just. I can't see you."

"Well yeah, cause you're not looking at me."

She shrugs, her gaze only moving further off to one side.

At this point I'm not above begging. "Can you look at me San? Please?"

I can actually see the bob of Santana's throat as she swallows. She shoves her hands into her pockets and finally lifts her gaze to mine. She looks terrified for a moment but then her expression clears. She finally actually smiles with a light blush darkening her cheeks. I feel my heart leap because she really is so lovely.

"Was that so hard?"

She's back to frowning again and her eyes go to the blanket still sprawled out on the floor. She shakes her head a little and I think she even mutters something about being an idiot under her breath. Her eyes finally make it back to mine. She shrugs.

"So, do you like movies?" I ask, wanting to distract her. "We could go watch something really bad and talk all the way through it," I suggest.

I can see a tiny smile being smothered.

"The new Twilight movie is on. You know that pokey little cinema with the pull down screen and deck chairs. We can laugh at how miserable it would be to date a sparkly Robert Patinson?"

Santana finally lets out a laugh at that. "Cause vampires are so hot right now?"

I shrug. "I'm sure they could be. When they're not sparkling like a disco ball."

Santana laughs again and I do an internal victory dance.

"What do you think?" I let her see how hopeful I am.

She bites her lip and I try not to hope that she's flirting with me. "Maybe," she says finally, dragging it out like it takes her a lot to say just that one word.

I can feel that I'm grinning at her but I can't help it.

She sighs and her gaze goes back to her feet as she shuffles awkwardly. I really just want to give her a hug again but I think she might implode this time.

"Are you always this nervous?"

"Only around you." It looks like she's startled herself with her own honesty and she turns away so quick I barely see it.

When I finally break out of my own surprise I realise that she's walking away.

"I guess I'll see you around then," I say softly.

Santana's so far down the driveway that I wouldn't have thought she could actually hear me but she turns and gives me a sad smile. As she turns away again I hear a faint, "I hope so. You and the PJ's."

Before I can try to reply she disappears around the corner.

I close the door and turn around, falling against it with a thud.

Kurt isn't even pretending to read his magazine anymore. "Well that was embarrassing."

"It worked out didn't it?"

"That wasn't a yes," he points out.

I pick up the blanket and fold it up slowly. "It will be."

"She's going tonight," Kurt says watching me carefully.

Oh no. "Then I'm not going," I say quickly.

"What? Why?"

"You tricked me. And you saw how awkward she was. How can I put her through that again?" I lift the blanket absently to my nose to breath in against the fuzz. I'm sure it's a habit I've picked up after too much time with the wolves.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Maybe she just has to get used to you or something."

"Or maybe I'll end up traumatising her," I tell him, thinking I can smell Santana under the washing soap she must have used.

"How old are you again? Twenty nine?"

I frown. Kurt's nineteen so he likes to say that I'm 'old'. "I'm twenty five Kurt—"

"Exactly, and totally fine—for a girl anyway—so why don't you go out tonight and just see what happens. If you're interested and she's obviously interested then why not?"

I think about that for a moment, leaving the folded blanket at the end of my bed. "Do you really think she's interested?"

Kurt just rolls his eyes and goes back to Vogue.

I flop back down on my bed and just think about Santana. I lay my head on the bundled up blanket and breath in deeply, "Yeah, I guess you're right Kurt," I murmur.

"Of course I'm right. Now paint your nails properly this time so we can go get our dance on."

"Yes!" I do a little horizontal happy dance. Tonight is gonna be so much fun.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Mad props to the Co-Creator and Ideas Smith for this little story, naynay1963

* * *

I haven't felt like my predator self in a long time and it's making me kind of… antsy. The monster side of me that thirsts for blood has needs. They're not human needs but they're still important. I breath in deeply and let myself feel every ounce of the predator inside me. I lose myself in the hunt. I sprint through the trees, imagining that I'm actually flying. Maybe I'm a ghost after all. A poltergeist that moves through the trees without a care for what's air and what's solid matter.

The human thoughts that ground me in the world of warm bloods, of humans kind of recede when I hunt. The human-me is quiet, really just indulging in the taboo nature of what I feel, instinct drawing me to a suitable prey. I—both human and predator—leave civilisation behind. I haven't wanted human blood in twenty five years but I still crave it. So I remove myself from the temptation because it's the safest and best thing I can do. I don't need to repeat the same mistakes I made in New Orleans.

I can smell the wolf pack, Brittany's wolf pack somewhere to the east but I move past them, reminding myself to go home on a path that will keep them downwind from me. If Brittany joins them and I'm still playing predator things could get ugly. The wolves won't be enough to protect her.

I stop in a broad clearing, dropping from a height with enough force to cause snow to puff up around me and blur my vision for a moment. The predator-me giggles in delight though the human-me has me rolling my eyes. Once everything settles I reach out with my senses. I can hear and smell every thing living within several miles. There's shimmers of heat that I know are rabbits and other little furry creatures. There are also deer. More specifically there is a doe, on her own, quietly grazing on something green and crunchy not far from me.

I dig my toes in under the snow and into the dirt, reconnecting with the earth. In my most human moments I've wondered if the connection with the dirt has anything to do with how I was born in the dirt, buried next to my maker as I died. Tonight I just need to kill something. I need to taste fresh and pumping blood so I don't do anything to Brittany that I'll regret. Puck insists I'm coming out with him tonight and I will. But with the way Brittany looked at me earlier today and with how I know my vamp body always reacts to a crowd, I need to be fed. If I'm not then I could just as easily end up on Brittany's doorstep demanding entrance. Explaining in the morning why that happened could be interesting. If Brittany survives.

I shudder. I'm distracted as both predator-me and human-me, causing me to lose track of the doe for a moment. I try not to think about what Brittany would taste like. I concentrate on the warm animal smell of the doe instead. Deer is just that little bit further from human blood but still satisfying which makes it a perfect distraction. I get closer, tense with anticipation. The human-me feels it too as I peer with hunter's eyes through the trees. It must be what a human hunter feels when carrying a gun.

I don't need a gun though. I break through the trees and the deer barely has a chance to startle. Her eyes go wide ad her heart gallops in her chest as she takes two leaping steps into the underbrush. It's too late and I snap her neck so she doesn't even have to feel my teeth sink into the pulsing artery at her throat. The slick, sweet elixir floods over my waiting tongue as her heart thumps four more times; strong as though making up for every beat that won't be happening now she's dead. I ignore the spray of blood that escapes the gash I've made in her neck. I'm only wearing an old crop top and sweats. Blood and dirt don't matter. The doe's slender legs twitch feebly before the last of her blood is drained and my hunger is sated.

I stand, licking my lips and stretch, letting out a noise pretty close to a baby dinosaur as the warm blood heats my usually icy veins. I always seem to underestimate how awesome it is, that feeling. It's a lot like a warm meal, obviously but also like being drunk and high at the same time. It's like falling from something high and feeling the rush of adrenalin that comes from nearly dying. When feeding from a human the feeling is like perfection, like finding your faith so suddenly that all those empty parts of your heart and soul are immediately filled.

Even if the blood in my veins now isn't human I still feel high as a kite and generally blissed out. Nothing that comes from a bag will ever really compare. With blood direct from a pumping heart coursing through me I feel like I could take on the sun; I can definitely take on some skeezy bar.

I leave the deer to the scavengers that are hiding in the dark. They'll smell what remains of the blood and this doe will be reclaimed by the forest. I only borrowed her for those few minutes. That's the best thing about feeding on animals in the wild like this. There's never a waist. If I eat a human in a city her body will be a waisted corpse for far too long, never even allowed to be worm food. Here, now this doe will feed so many living things. She was born to the woods and her body returns to the woods.

Human me can't help the eye roll at all the existential bullshit. This is what happens when monsters get philosophical. I shake my head, wiping the back of my hand across my cheek to try and wipe the blood away. I lick over the back of my hand and can't help the picture of myself as a cat.

Brittany likes cats.

I'm kinda like a big, scary cat.

But I'm being ridiculous and don't have time to be standing around thinking about a girl that I have to stay away from. I sprint into the trees again to distract myself. I'm much more aware of how close the trees are now that I'm not totally lost in the spirit of the predator. I'm a little more concerned about knocking myself out on a tree trunk. That would be way too embarrassing.

I need to move quickly though if I'm going to get home and get this blood off me before Puck shows up at my apartment. He didn't say he was coming but he will. He's taken to getting ready at my place. For some reason he thinks I won't judge him for his bullshit metrosexual hygiene, haircare routine. I totally judge him. He's a bigger girl than I am and—

How the fuck did I get here?

I'm within a hundred paces of the wolves. I did as I'd planned, following a path that kept me upwind of the wolf pack. What I hadn't really planned on was them moving. Now they're right there and the wind has shifted and I can—I can smell Brittany. I sneak through the trees to see her because I'm a masochist. I'm close enough that one of the wolves, the alpha senses that I'm close and she looks up. She whines but doesn't growl. I shift so I can look her in the eyes. She acknowledges me and then I lower my gaze in submission. Her head goes back to resting on her paws and I go back to stalking Brittany.

I can see her fully now. She's sitting among the pack. She's not making notes or even playing with the pups. Her bag is just sitting on the ground a few yards behind her and she's just sitting with her legs crossed and her eyes closed as she rubs her hand over the head of one of the younger wolves. Her hair shines in the light of early evening and I can imagine how sweet her skin smells where it tickles the nape of her neck.

I honestly don't know what kind of stalking I'm doing right now. A light breeze brings her scent to me and she smells incredible(as she always does). She looks beautiful too(as she always does). I can't help but wonder what would happen if I just appeared like I did last time. I know she thinks I'm a bit of a nut case because of the way I'd jumped in between her and the wolves but she still asked me out right?

With that thought I know that I have to leave. I can't do this to myself or to her. She won't survive me. If I'm like a big, scary cat then Brittany is a baby mouse that, whether I mean to or not is gonna get disemboweled. Not cool man. Really not cool. Fuck if I'm gonna let Quinn be right about this too. If I killed her now then I know I'll just go back to Louisiana. The look on Quinn's face would be almost as bad as my killing Brittany.

Okay maybe they don't really compare because the legitimate thought of killing Brittany actually makes me feel sick. It makes my heart clench in a way that is really freakin weird for someone who's heart doesn't actually beat. It's strange. The idea of feeding on her is hot as hell. Her blood would undoubtedly taste as good as she smells. I can practically feel my fangs coming out. It would be so hot that—okay, no that actually _is_ my fangs coming out. Goddamn this girl. I just want to taste her and she's right there. I'm a fucking hunter, I shouldn't be getting emotional about this.

The sky is getting darker, with the moon rising and as the first star comes out Brittany opens her eyes. I move a few steps so I can see her eyes(because, yep still a masochist). She seems sad, deep in thought about something. I wonder if she's thinking about me and I feel that little tremor in my heart again. Her head tilts and her body stills as though she's listening for something. The wolf under her hand shifts as if annoyed that her hand has stopped moving. She smiles down at him and resumes scratching behind his ears. I melt for that smile. She's only more beautiful under the moonlight.

I think she might go back to looking at the stars but instead she looks into the trees. I gasp and her mouth twists in concentration. She shouldn't be able to hear me at this distance but I swear she knows I'm here. I'm hidden in the dark of the trees but when her eyes settle on the dark space between the trees I'd swear she could see me.

She doesn't look scared or even worried, just curious. She opens her mouth to say something but I can't hear it, whatever it might be. If she draws me in she could die.

I turn and run.

{S&B}

I try to not be disappointed when I get to the bar and Santana isn't there. I try and fail. Santana was all I could think about when I went out to say goodnight to Liza's pack. I could swear I'd even sensed her out in the woods. Maybe it was just some remnant of her being there last month. Although, the idea that any feel of someone can linger that long is a little strange.

Kurt must see my disappointed look because he gives me a commiserating smile before going to hug Sugar. I trail up behind them slowly because I've learned something about their friendship and that's that I shouldn't be anywhere in the vicinity when they go through their subtle(not subtle) compliments(criticisms) of each other's outfits. No doubt, since Kurt dressed me, I'll be getting the same analysis from Sugar. In theory it should be fine because I know I look hot. Knowing that Santana is going to be here, I couldn't be anything less. But there are so many additional factors that I apparently don't understand. The socio-economic impacts of lace versus silk and the relevant foregrounded blah blah blahs that I really don't give a shit about must be discussed. Apparently.

I see Sugar give my outfit the once over. I'd assume she was into girls looking at me like that but she really is just _that_ into fashion. I tune out as soon as I hear Kurt say the name of the designer. If I hear any more I'm just likely to lose a piece of information from my brain that might be useful to me. You know how there's only so much space for so much stuff. So when I was a cheerleader then the cheers and the moves for a routine took up a lot of space. Now I'm an actual freakin scientist I need things like the lower classifications of Canis Lupus in my head, not useless information about gossamer versus nylon.

I look around the bar, seeing the usual people you'd expect although fewer than I might have hoped for. I've only been here once since that first time and now Sugar's taken over ownership of the bar I'd expected some more changes.

One thing in particular is conspicuously unchanged. "I thought you were switching in black lights?" I interrupt a fashion rant mid word but I can't bring myself to care.

"What?" Sugar asks, only half as put out as Kurt seems to be.

"You said all the ugly people were giving you hives so you were going to put in black lights so you could spot attractive people by their white teeth and clean—"

"Right, right. After nine the house lights go down. I wanted it all the time but no body ever listens to me," she pouts like her father didn't immediately purchase this bar on her whim.

I'm about to wander over to the DJ to see his playlist when something strikes me. "Did you say the lights will change at nine?"

Sugar nods.

"So what the hell time is it?" I turn on Kurt who'd insisted that it was at least ten and no I didn't need to check my phone because he knows what time it is silly girl.

Kurt looks alarmed like I might hit him.

"Why are we here so early?" I'm not angry per se just really confused.

Kurt and Sugar share a glance. Kurt answers. "Well, I might have relayed to Sugar your hesitance to reunite with Santana after what happened this afternoon and she thought that maybe it could be a good idea if we arrived early so we could maybe…" he trails off as if he doesn't want to tell me the reasons behind his sneakiness.

Sugar says it for him. "We wanna get you drunk," she says in her special, blunt Sugar way.

{S&B}

I shouldn't miss an inanimate object but I do. The blanket that trapped Brittany's scent in it's brown fluff would be really comforting right now. In the time I kept it that blanket became a substitute for Brittany. Obviously. I'm such a transparent and a generally useless person right now. It's like I've been neutered and I suddenly sympathise with a German Shepherd. You know the ones that get knackered and their voice boxes removed because they're too aggressive. So I'm a knackered, emotional, blanket stroking wreck basically. Awesome.

Although, not the blanket part anymore since I stupidly gave it back. I had reasons for giving it back; for one because it didn't smell like her anymore; for another… actually no, I think that's all there was. It took two weeks for the Brittany smell to dissipate. That didn't stop me from curling up in a ball and just holding Gus(yeah, I named the blanket) against my face at night. Sickening right? What kind of self respecting vampire am I? I honestly don't know anymore. All it took was one small attempted act of kindness as wielded by a gorgeous blonde and I'm done.

I can't have her blood, I can't even be around her without putting her life in danger, so the smell of her that clung to that blanket was as good as I could get. Feeding on that deer tonight took the edge off but seeing her again so soon after makes me miss the damn blanket.

I take a swig from the bottle of Jack I've been cradling. My days as a worthy creature of the night are over. Then again, they were over the day Brittany was born. I just hadn't known it yet.

"Hey, Lopez." Puck throws a balled up pair of socks at me. "Where you at bro?"

"Don't call me bro Puck," I sigh, not even able to be angry at him for his many sins. I've been staring into space and getting my pre-drink on while he gets ready to go out.

"Well, I'm still your lezbro—"

"I broke your finger."

"Thanks for the reminder. That and calling you bro is what's gonna keep me from forgetting that no matter how fine you are I've got to keep my hands off."

"Fine, okay. Are you ready to go yet?"

"Hey, hey now. You can't rush perfection."

I roll my eyes because Puck has officially taken twice as long to get ready as I did. For me it's jeans, singlet, and a jacket with some artfully mussed up hair and I'm done. Puck's been tweaking his ridiculous mohawk for half an hour.

"I thought you'd already boned Sugar."

"Well yeah, but you know. I think she could become a regular bone."

"Also known as a girlfriend."

"If you wanna get technical."

I throw the bundled socks back at his head and go back to thinking about Brittany. I wonder what she's doing tonight and if she'll just stay with the wolves. I can imagine her just looking at the stars and tracing out patterns and pictures. All I really want is to be there with her.

Puck finally pulls on his jacket and I can't help but sigh because I can never go stargazing with Brittany. Or ever really be alone with her again. So it's another night of shots and resisting a crowd of strangers for me. I leave the bottle of Jack along with any hope for a great night behind in the apartment.

{S&B}

I'm tipsy. No drunk. Definitely drunk. I don't know what I've been drinking but it was fun. Is fun.

I haven't danced like this in…too long. I love my wolves. I really do but that dancing with wolves thing is bullshit and Kevin Costner is a lying douche. Running with wolves is amazing, thrilling even but it isn't this. This is dancing.

The bass is loud. The best thing about Sugar taking over is that she loves the bass almost as much as I do and she upgraded the sound system accordingly. The sound could only be sitting at around a hundred twenty decibels. It could be six thousand or sixty. I don't care so long as that bass keeps rumbling cause, the rhythm is just right there, you know. It's right in my chest and competing with the rhythm of my heart. Speeding it up and slowing it down. I'm a slave to the music and a slave to that gorgeous fucking bass.

I feel euphoria when I dance all the time. You don't train in ballet, hip hop and contemporary dance every day for twelve years because you don't like to dance. The bass drives me forward, surges though my body, burns my blood. It drives my hips, my arms above my head as I find somebody, _any_ body to move against. The heat of the people moving on the dance floor mixes with the heat coursing through and out from my chest as the bass seeps into my bones and consumes my soul.

I am the music, I am the bass and this song fucking rocks.

The bass charges me like the crank on a freaking windup toy and I'm ready to blow Santana's mind. Forget that wild creature that growled at a pack of wolves or purred into my neck. Forget the adorable freak that ran bare foot through the snow or developed some kind of emotional dependance on a giraffe print blanket. Tonight Santana is my goddess and this dancer will worship her in the language she knows best.

{S&B}

I have to admit that Puck's girl might actually know what she's doing. The minute I walk into the bar I could be in any city in the world. The lights are low but with backlights casting a cool glow over the space. There's the occasional colour spot light that flashes over the shifting mass of bodies and the DJ seems to have a knack for picking the right spot of a song to flash the strobe.

Puck performs his best swagger and I follow in his wake, not looking at anybody before i get to the bar. Everyone can just get the fuck out of my way for all I care. I'm only interested in one person and she's not here. Brittany probably has some smart-girl thing to do. I'm not a smart girl and I can handle that. I have my own gifts, my own curses and I can make them work for me. The whole creature of the night thing? It can work for me. I wonder if I can even have sex tonight without killing the chick. Or without her getting clingy. That's the worst.

I miss Brittany.

I miss Gus. That fluffy, giraffe blanket is my best friend right now.

Scratch that. Fireball is my best friend right now. Puck hands over the Chuck Norris round house kick to the face and I take it then another, throwing them back in a heartbeat. Puck's heartbeat. Don't judge. It's free. it's a shot and it's already mixing with the Jack to get me drunk. Maybe even drunk enough to forget about—

"Brittany's here," Puck says the words so casually like they aren't completely earth shattering for me.

I spin on the spot like a complete, gumby loser. I can't really pick anyone easily out of the crowd. I'm pretty sure the blacklight plays even greater havoc on my vamp eyes than the warm bloods. I can't pick out any blonde from the rest of the crowd.

What I can pick out is a dancer. One woman that moves like she is the music. It's like she's out on that dance floor just to draw me in and turn me on like... Like, fuck if I know what to do with my body right now.

I gulp a lump in my throat, my mouth watering when I realise that this is the girl that Puck is pointing out. I recognise that body, the smooth movements of the hips and the delicate, perfect sweep of blonde hair over her neck.

Brittany.

She's liquid sex and I need to have her. Her blonde hair, her eyes and skin are obscured by the blacklight but I still want her. I want her body because she is fucking hot. I don't have to have her blood though. I'm looking at her and I don't need to rip her throat out. The bloodlust is there but it's a little less bloody than usual.

God bless Sugar Motta and her damn blacklights.

Puck hands me another two shots and I throw both of them back. I don't know if I can be this close to Brittany when she's moving like that. Not with my full sensibilities. I need the alcohol to dull my sense of smell and taste at least. I bet Brittany's neck tastes great.

{S&B}

I dance through the crowd, ignoring the male bodies trying to grind up with me. They're not as soft or lithe or delicate as I want and I'm in no mood to humour them. They are willing though and they're moving to the beat so I move between them and around them. They're hands still wander but mostly stay off the goods. Apparently they're mothers raised them right. I wonder idly if they're local or if maybe they work with Santana out at the rig. I hope they work with Santana so then I can imagine that I'm closer to her. I can imagine the hands that occasionally brush against me tonight are actually hers.

I sway in my space between the warm bodies, shifting and twirling in time with the music. The guys, the girls, all of them are just a background. It's like I can feel the beat and the light coalescing to caress my skin and shift my body. I let my hair move around my face as my eyes close and my arms go up over my head. The music pulses and my heart jumps.

I feel like I could stay here forever. I could stay in this place of rhythm and body-heat and sex. Every club has that same atmosphere. I can always feel it. The air that fills a space where so many people are moving and gyrating against each other. The way so many people are eager to take someone home, to claim them and their bodies, it's like a smell and a sound and a feeling all at the same time. The mating dance; it's practically a science. It's a science that I can understand. When Santana gets here I'll show it to her.

She's as close to animal as any person I've ever met. Animals are my favourite people after all and now here's Santana all people shaped and sexy_and_ as close to animal as I can be when I'm with my wolves... She's perfect.

If only she would be here already. Every time I thought she might finally be here I've opened my eyes and looked around for some sign of her. I've stopped looking because I just don't think I can take any more disappointment. I want her. I want to see her and feel her arms around me.

I can practically feel her now as I move between the hot male bodies that seem to have surrounded me. I think about breaking away from the unwanted bodies all together but then the bare skin of my back brushes against a softer fabric than before. It feels good, cool against my hot skin so I don't hesitate to move back into that person again. Her hands shift around my hips and I can feel her nuzzling into my hair. Nuzzling and sniffing like Santana.

I stop moving and the hands at my waist grip sharply over my top. I take in a deep breath and trace my own fingertips over the girl's hands. I can smell her and as I lean back i can feel the distinctly feminine curves of Santana's body against me. I can feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest. A new, fast paced song starts up as if to match my new rhythm.

I still can't move and Santana's hands start to move over me as she continues nuzzling into my hair. One of her hands moves further over my hips to grip my body tighter against her own. I gasp as her left hand moves up my side and over my bare shoulder to sweep my hair away from my neck. I can feel her press her nose against the skin of my shoulder. I'm so much taller in these heals she can't quite reach my neck. My own left hand balls into a fist as hers sweeps over my clavicle and her lips press over my spine. My whole body shudders at the contact and a strong pulse of arousal shoots through me. My hips move of their own accord and when Santana moves with me I smile.

{S&B}

I'm surrounded by human heat and sweat and Brittany. The alcohol I've consumed isn't enough to make her invisible to my senses but enough to stop me being consumed by her. I watched her from the bar for long enough to see that she wasn't dancing with anyone. No matter how one of the warm bloods might pull into her, or move into her rhythm she just turned and danced away. An instrument of the music needed no accompaniment. Except me. Definitely me. It took all of about eight seconds for me to realise that I was the one she was waiting for. Knowing that it's the alcohol giving me a false confidence and actually caring are two very different things.

She freezes when I come up behind her but melts into my arms once she knows(somehow) that it's me. I want her to move in that same liquid way again. I need her to move but I don't want her to move at all. I grip her hips and shamelessly pull her ass against me. I wish I could just grind against her but maybe that can happen later. For now I just feel her warm body against mine and breathe in the addictive scent of Brittany. I push her hair aside and glory in the naked expanse of her back. Whoever put Brittany in this top should be canonised into sainthood.

I want to worship her body. I want to lick and taste every inch of her skin. I settle for kissing her spine and pull away, licking at my lips to taste the small trace of her. I feel like a junky as the instant hunger and cravings take over me. Her hips shift and I move with her, unwilling to allow any distance to come between us. This is dangerous but I'm in control. The alcohol helps, the blacklight helps and not facing her helps.

We move together as one and the rest of the crowd disappears. I may have three hundred years of practice on Brittany but somehow she not only keeps up with me but actually surpasses my ability. Every time I move, she moves with me. I run my fingertips over her arms and down her back. I want to kiss her again but I fight to keep my control.

A remix of that Britney and Madonna song comes on and I can practically feel her vibrating with excitement. This is obviously her jam and it's all I can do to hold on for the ride. She doesn't turn into me for any more than I can handle as she practically uses my body as a prop to her dancing. She dips down in front of me and I almost lose it when she bends and slides her way back up my body, her ass grinding against me all the way. She turns her head when she's standing straight again and I know that she's watching me, waiting for a reaction. All I can give her is the hands on her hips and my body moving in rhythm against hers.

As the DJ transitions into the next, slower song I can feel Brittany shifting restlessly. I know what she wants but I can't look into her eyes. If the DJ hits the strobe at the wrong moment I could see the blue and I'll be done. I make the preemptive move and Brittany follows my lightest touch like she can read my mind. As my left hand moves over her hip and the other puts the lightest pressure on her back, Brittany turns. I move away just enough to turn my back to her and our position is reversed.

Brittany doesn't hesitate to pull my back just as tightly to her front with an arm stretching over my waist, her hand gripping against my hip. I gulp, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against her shoulder as she guides our hips into what could only be described as a magic, thrusting sex dance. The DJ seems to be working purposely against my resolve as song after song builds in intensity until the bass is thrumming repeatedly through the amps that point into the crowd.

We're both sweating in the heat and the experience of smelling both of our scents mixing together is enough to leave me a flustered, aroused mess on the floor. I grip onto Brittany's thigh and know instantly that it's a terribly idea as I feel her strong muscles flexing under my hand. God, this girl is fit. And she's here, she wants me and I want her and I have to—I have to—

"Okay bitches," Sugar's amplified, nasal voice pierces through my Brittany induced sex haze. "The ugly and insecure suits that run this town shut us down in t-minus ten minutes." The music keeps thumping through her words but she's still clear enough. "So find your sheets partner and get the fuck out before the lights go white. You might not like what you find otherwise." She leaves the mike on long enough to laugh at her own joke.

I roll my eyes before realising exactly what she just said. The house lights will be back on and I'll be able to see Brittany properly. I can't let that happen.

I'm about to bolt but Brittany grabs both my arms like she really can read my mind.

"Wait, don't go," she whispers into my ear.

I feel my shoulders relax against my will. "I have to," I say honestly.

She sighs and moves her body around mine. I feel her breasts brush over my arm and her hips bump past my side; she is that close to me. She looks into my eyes and I gasp.

"I want to see you again." Her eyes are clear and blue and I get lost in them. "Go out with me. Please," she adds with a hopeful smile.

I find myself nodding. Fuck.

Brittany grins and then her hand moves over my hip and dangerously close to my crotch on the way to my thigh. I can't even protest before she has my phone out of my jeans pocket. I snap out of my latest haze when she looks down to unlock my phone, somehow guessing the pattern of numbers that make up my password. She smirks at me with a challenge I can't meet. She taps out what must be her number than hits the call button so my number will come up on her phone(wherever that might be).

She puts my phone back in my pocket. "I really want to kiss you," she says like it's just an obvious truth. "But I don't want to scare you off."

I gulp and shake my head reflexively. Brittany sighs because she knows that I can't kiss her. Not yet.

_Not yet?_ I'm in so much trouble.

Brittany grasps my hand lightly. I realise that every one of her touches is gentle and caring. She squeezes my hand and makes her way off the dance floor. I watch her ass as she walks and Brittany glances over her shoulder like she knows that's exactly what I'm doing. If it was possible for me to blush I would. Instead I find Puck, half passed out against the bar and drag him out into the cold with me, both our jackets around his shoulders.

I unlock my door, deposit Puck on my sofa and collapse on my own bed. Brittany is on my mind as she always is. My phone buzzes and I pull it out to see a number I don't recognise with a text message.

_'Remember how you just agreed to go watch sparkly disco ball vampires with me? I'll catch you soon.'_

I smile at the disco ball vampires comment and despite every ounce of self interest telling me not to I tap out a reply.

_'Not if I catch you first.'_ It's honest and oddly creepy but with the alcohol still in my system I find it hilarious.

I fall asleep with a smile on my face because I'm pretty sure I just agreed to go on a date with Brittany Pierce.


	4. Chapter 4

Mad props as always to Naynay1963, Co Creator and ideas smith for this'n.

* * *

The movie is as bad as I'd expected. But I have fun with Brittany all the same. The violence in the movie is a little fun too and I do miss the violence sometimes. I miss being the animal.

I bring her back to my place and invite her inside. It all seems so easy and natural as I finally get to kiss her. We stumble sideways through my front door and into my bedroom, neither of us willing to let go.

She falls onto her back on the bed and pulls me down with her. I can feel her heart beating strong against her breast and hear the pouring rush of blood in her veins. It's so close I can feel the heat of it. I can practically taste it even as Brittany dips her tongue past my lips to deepen our kiss. Her hips shift under mine and my arousal builds. My jaw tingles and I know my canines have dropped into fangs but I can't bring myself to pull away from her. I just keep kissing her back as she moves her lips and her body against mine in a feverish rhythm.

She snaps back in a sudden jerk. "Ow, did you... I think you nipped my lip San."

She looks at me with such wide, innocent eyes that I can't help but grin. If she sees my fangs she doesn't say anything. One of her hands releases the hold on my jaw and she traces over my cheekbone and down my nose. I'm still grinning when she gets to my lips and traces their outline with a light touch. I reach out with my tongue and taste her skin then nip at her fingertip with my teeth. She winces and pulls back.

I grab her hand. "Wait." I don't let her lick at the scratch my teeth have made.

She watches with rapt attention as I bring her bleeding fingertip back to my lips. She gulps but remains impassive as my tongue flicks out and I get my first taste.

My eyes roll back as her blood streaks across my tongue. I want more. It's not enough. I suck harder on her finger and get a tiny bit more of the precious liquid. Brittany groans and I'm sure she feels the arousal brought on by the feed. Humans are so easy.

God, I've missed this so much. I need more.

I let go of her hand and she turns it to see the scratch and her fingertip covered in my saliva. She press up for a kiss but I lean back, avoiding the reach of her lips. She pouts and I smirk as I wrap my hand around her wrist and turn the pale side to face me. The path of little blue veins are clearly visible beneath the skin. The rush of her blood sings out the sirens call.

I look up into her trusting blue eyes and down to her throat. She's so open to me. It's not enough. I want the rush of her fear.

"Do you know what I am?" I ask her, the animal growl in my voice deliberate.

She shivers at the sound but then only nods in response.

Her voice remains absent and I growl in frustration as she refuses to answer me properly. She tilts her head up in a question, exposing her jugular to me. The pulsing arterial vein just asking for my teeth.

I can't do it.

I can do it.

Can I claim her?

I'm Santana Lopez. I'm a monster and a thirsty one at that. What is this girl but another human. She holds too much sway over my life; has done since the day she was born. It's not right and it's not fair.

I can feel the anger consume me even as the animal, the predator part of me takes over. Brittany just keeps looking at me. Those crystal blue eyes and that corn blonde hair pulls me in further. I need to devour her.

I lift her chin with one hand. She twists her neck so willingly that I only get angrier. How can she _tempt_ me without the fear. I press my nose against her neck, looking for the fear that I'm craving. It's a basic human instinct to fear vampires. It's not a choice. It's primal.

I nip at her neck and still get nothing. I get up on my knees and straddle her thighs, a growl rumbling low in my throat. Still nothing. It's frustrating.

It's infuriating.

I lick her neck and she giggles. I've had enough.

I stop the nips and bite down hard—harder than I need to and finally, finally her blood splashes out and stains my tongue. Her heart pumps the thick, sweet fluid straight into my waiting mouth. Everything I can't immediately swallow drips down to stain both our clothes and the bed beneath us. Brittany lets out a moan and digs her finger into my hair, pulling me closer.

How dare she...she succumbs to me not in fear but with pure want.

I wrap one arm around her back and grip her shoulder with the other, pulling at her roughly until I hear a sound somewhere between a crack and a thud. Her shoulder dislocates and she still just clings to me. She's in too deep to feel the hurt.

I keep feeding as the golden euphoria of the feed overtakes my anger. My body starts to move with hers again. The intimacy of feeding is so close to kissing, so close to sex. We both moan as I grind into her; as her heartbeat slows; as the last of her blood surges over my tongue.

Then I feel it. Finally Brittany shows some understanding of what is happening to her. I can smell fear mingling with the sweetness of blood and sex. She knows this isn't about getting off or even just feeding. She knows that I'm draining the life out of her. I can feel her inside me now. I can feel her spirit, her warmth coming into me. It might be an illusion but it's one that persists with every human life I take. I am making Brittany mine. With her last heartbeat, Brittany Pierce belongs to me.

My fangs retract and I breath in deeply one more time as the blood induced euphoria starts to wane. I cradle the lifeless body carefully in my arms. Brittany's eyes remain open and her face still holds the blissful sigh of death. I want to kiss her delicate pink lips; I can almost see the wicked smirk she wears so well. But those lips will never turn under their master's will again; Brittany's life force is gone from this body—this corpse. I can see in her faded eyes the glimmer of what had once been life but are now only tears that failed to fall. One lone tear escapes. The trail of salty water dries even against her cooled skin.

I touch my fingers against her once rosy cheeks and I feel it. A sharp stab of grief tears through me as I realise what I've done. I wriggle out from under her lifeless weight as I feel panic rising in me. I lay her head gently on the ground before shaking her shoulders and calling her name.

"Brittany? Britt?" I shake her harder, willing her to be somehow be okay. "No. No, no, Brittany!"

My calls become desperate as the reality of what I've done finally reaches my blood addled mind.

"Brittany I'm sorry. Oh god, I didn't mean to Britt." I pull her tightly to my chest as my own tears choke my throat and stream bloodily from my eyes.

Crimson blood—Brittany's blood—streams down my cheeks as I sob over her lifeless body.

"Please Brittany. I want you back. I need you. I need my friend. You're all I have, you're all I want Britt Britt. Please come back to me, I'm sorry."

I plead and beg over the broken corpse I ask for forgiveness I try to take it back. I offer my own body and demonic soul up to whatever higher power could be watching or listening to take me instead; let me die so Brittany can live.

I spin around searching into the dark woods i find myself in. My apartment is gone and I'm alone. There's no one to hear me or fix this. I can only watch on as the bugs and carrion descend to return Brittany's body to the wild. I can't stand it. Seeing Brittany taken away from me as though she's some Jane Doe corpse tears me up inside. My heart is breaking.

I think I can hear music playing as I watch. It occurs to me in some basic way that it's appropriate I should hear music since I've consumed a dancer's body, a dancer's soul. I recognise the song. The chorus of Constant Craving. The KD Lang song is on some kind of loop and getting louder. Things around me get fuzzier and I look down to see that Brittany's body is gone. I'm sitting on some plush surface and there's a pounding in my head. I'm in my apartment and Puck is still snoring on my couch.

There's no sign of Brittany but I breath in to find that a trace of her scent lingers on my own shirt from when she had been dancing against me last night.

My phone buzzes and then dings with a new message. I realise that the song I'd heard was coming from my phone. I feel like I can still taste Brittany on my tongue, feel the heat of her in my veins. The grief of losing her is fresh in me and I run the back of my hand under my eyes to wipe away the bloody tears there.

The song starts up again and I scramble around in my sheets to find my phone. I swipe my thumb across the screen and just hold it to my ear, too raw from feeding(or the dream?) to say anything.

"Hi Santana it's Brittany." The living breathing voice of one Brittany Pierce reaches me.

I immediately forget that I don't need to breath as I try to suck in more oxygen. "Brittany?"

"Um yeah its Brittany from the bar?" She says. "And the um woods? We're going to the movie tonight. Well I guess thats actually what i was calling to see if you would still um...you do remember me right?"

I could swear I still feel brittany's blood in my veins, the taste of her lingering on my tongue. "Brittany?" I ask again.

Brittany makes a sound like disappointment. "You don't remember me do you? Or that we're going to the movie?" I hear a noise like Brittany just slapped her hand against her forehead. "Oh god I'm such an idiot of course you wouldn't remember the date. You were drunk and I sort of tricked you. You know what, just forget it. Forget I called just... Bye Santana." Theres the sound of Brittany disconnecting the call then silence.

I'm so dazed,confused and now ... Now I'm angry. I let out a growl of frustration, waking up Puck on the couch.

"Wha? Santana whas' goin on?" He grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

"Get out," I yell at him. I know it's not his fault but I don't care.

"But—"

"Now Puck!"

"Okay, okay. Don't get your panties in a knot."

He tries to say something else but I've had enough. I move across the apartment quicker than I should and flip Puck right off the couch and onto the floor.

"Get the hell outa here Puck!" I turn before I fall to the temptation to rip his throat out.

I unlock my phone as I start hunting through the apartment. I breath in deep to find any trace of Brittany, of her body. I killed her. I stole her light and took her away from the world. Puck slams the front door as I pull up the recent calls on my phone. Did Brittany really call me?

There. In the recents list is two missed calls and on answered from Brittany "Sex On A Stick" Pierce. I don't remember it but I must have programmed the number before passing out. That and changed her ring tone to Constant Craving. The KD Lang song comes into my head almost every time I think of her.

I tap on her name to redial, still madly throwing pillows and blankets around.

I'm on my knees looking under the bed when the ringing stops and I hear a hesitant voice answer. "Hello?"

I almost sob in relief. "Brittany?" I ask just because I have to know.

"Yeah," she says sounding more than confused. "You do remember now? Or did you just butt dial me?"

I laugh in relief. "So you're okay. You're not hurt or anything?"

There's a pause before she answers. "I'm dandy. Except for where I embarrassed myself talking to a cute girl."

I repress another delighted giggle(Santana Lopez doesn't giggle) at both Brittany calling me cute and at the use of the word 'Dandy'.

Brittany's voice is still a bit hesitant. "Are you okay? I guess hungover or..."

"Yeah, I mean I just… Are you sure you're fine?"

Brittany laughs a little and the sound is unbelievably reassuring for me. "Yes I'm drinking coffee and answering emails as we speak." The hesitance is almost totally gone from her voice. "Do you want me to come over? You sound a little shaken."

I don't know how she can know how I feel just by hearing the sound of my voice but she's right. "No, no stay where you are. I'll be fine. I just… had a bad—um," I can't admit that can I?

"You had a bad dream?" She asks.

Dammit.

"Have you tried rocking back and forth?"

"What?"

"To make yourself feel better."

"Oh, um no." I know I'm smiling like an idiot but there's nothing I can do.

The line is silent for half an awkward moment but then Brittany huffs a sigh. "So you called me back to make sure that I'm okay. And we've ascertained that you're kind of okay."

I hum in agreement.

"Does that mean I can ask you out again? Since I did a kinda crappy job the other times."

"I um—" I hesitate knowing I can't but wishing I could.

"Please?"

Oh god, that's not fair. I fall back onto my backside and then sprawl out on my back on the floor. I lay, spread eagle but oddly comfortable.

"Just sparkly vampires and a good time with no pressure."

"No pressure?"

"Absolutely not. Consider me like a broken hydro electricity tree."

Um... "Hydro electricity plant?"

"Exactly."

I shake my head, still grinning and generally flailing on the floor because this girl is my favorite human.

"Okay," is all I manage to say with a level voice.

Brittany squeals on the other end of the line and—apparently Santana Lopez does giggle. I'm also in so much trouble. I'm not shaking any more except from laughter. Brittany's voice is warming me up from the inside out and washing away the horror of my nightmare. Now if I can only know how to get through a night without killing her. Her blonde hair, the beautiful eyes make her a target for my animal self. I feel a cringe at the thought of hurting her. The pain of my nightmare easily returning to pull at my heart. I just don't know for sure if my self control will go so far as a date with her.

"Do you know where the cinema is?" I ask, stalling.

"I'm gonna go with... The Main Street? The one with all the snow?"

She's joking. There is only one street. And *everything* is covered in snow.

But that gives me an idea. "How do you feel about hats?"

{S&B}

"I just don't get it," I grumble, staring at the screen speculatively.

"Easy San," Brittany says reaching for another handful of the popcorn from the bucket in my lap. "The kid is there because of that broody vampire and that broody teenager getting their freak on and—"

"No not that—although the moral message of this movie is a little weird, like am I meant to think that sex before marriage is bad or just vamp sex—" I shake my head because that's not the point. "But no, I mean that Bella chick."

"Kristen Stewart?"

"Yeah that one. Why is everyone after her. I mean she's not a complete unfortunate but she's not exactly smokin either."

"They seem to think she's pretty."

"Yeah. I guess I just..." I shrug. "I dunno."

"Prefer blondes?"

"Yeah." I reply before my brain can catch up with my mouth. "Or I mean I just...um." I slap my hand over my eyes, not even knowing where to start.

"That's okay." Brittany says around a mouthful of popcorn. "I know you think I'm hot." She grins so I can see the flecks of popcorn in her teeth that accompany the streak of butter on her cheek.

I can only think she's adorable which really doesn't help my cause at all. "I—Brittany that's just. I mean—"

"I know you want me," Brittany shrugs like it's no big deal but there's a quirk at the corner of her mouth that makes me sure it kinda is a big deal.

The truth is I want her so much. The hat, scarf and coat I convinced her to wear inside the cinema regardless of the room temperature is helping a little but she is still so hot. I can't admit that to Brittany though. Not yet. Certainly not out loud.

I grab a handful of popcorn and go back to watching the movie. I'm still confused but every now and then Brittany will lean into my ear and make some random observation to make me laugh. Her smell is overwhelming. Hell, her whole presence is overwhelming but I won't let go. I won't hurt her.

Although.

Something like a battle is happening on screen. I don't care. Brittany loosens her scarf and a strip of her skin becomes visible. Her pale, supple skin is tantalizingly close since Brittany is still leaning into me from her last comment on the movie. Her forearm is leaning along my thigh and I can't bring myself to ask her to move.

She wriggles the scarf around again and finally let's it out loose enough to fall away from her perfect, slender neck. I can see the delicate throb of her pulse. I want to touch her. I want to stroke my finger against her skin just to feel the warmth, to feel the life there. My arm acts of its own accord so my hand is nearly touching her shoulder.

We're sitting at the back and there is no one in our row. I could taste her. I could have her to myself and then disappear. It would be so easy. I'm salivating at the imagined taste of her blood. I lean into her, my fangs out and my mouth open, the flavors of her scent washing over my tongue as I breath in.

"Santana?"

My fangs retract fast enough to hurt as I jerk back at Brittany turning to me so suddenly. Her blue eyes are startled and confused as she looks between my mouth and my hand where it hovers over her shoulder.

"What are you—"

I open my mouth even further and transition into a yawn as smoothly as I can, trailing my hand from her shoulder over the back of her seat. Brittany's eyebrows shoot up as I turn into a teenage movie cliche.

"Oh my god," Brittany laughs loud enough that a few actual teenagers turn in their seats to glare at us. She covers her face as if embarrassed by my display. "I can't believe you just pulled a move. You are such a dork."

I am a fucking dork. A dangerous, bloodsucking dork.

{S&B}

Santana's move is somehow charming. I'm pretty sure she could show up on my doorstep with a boom box Breakfast Club style and I'd still be charmed by her.

Even if she has no understanding of temperature.

I've entertained her weird fixation on keeping me warm by wearing all the extra layers. I love the hat anyway so that's not so hard. Taking off the scarf did something to loosen Santana in her seat next to me so I'm calling that a win. I even manage to snuggle into her side with hardly any protest. Well, except for I'm pretty sure that she's stopped breathing. I won't move now though. I'm too comfortable. Plus all the layers are making me overheat and Santana seems to run perpetually cold. Like, colder than normal. She'd be great to snuggle in summer. In a place that actually gets a summer that is.

By the time the credits roll I'm sorry to unfold myself from Santana but she jumps up so quickly I don't really get a choice. We get outside even quicker and the icy wind makes me wrap the scarf back around my throat. Santana seems to breath a sigh of relief. I look at her jacket. It's the same one she wears during the day.

"Don't you feel the cold at all?" I ask taking up her hand as she turns toward my apartment. I feel that her hands are totally icy. She's her usual tan though, not in any way blue.

Santana stumbles a little as she looks down at our joined hands.

I twine my fingers in between hers. "Is this okay?" I ask.

Santana shrugs like it doesn't matter but I can see in her eyes that yes it does matter and yes it is really, really okay. I can't help but dance a little as we walk.

"Don't you live the other way?" I'm sure Santana always comes from the other direction.

"I'm walking you home," she shrugs again.

"So gallant."

Santana laughs nervously but squeezes my hand a little tighter, a proud little smile making her look more adorable even under the harsh illumination of the street lights.

{S&B}

I hesitate at the door to Brittany's apartment. I know she'll invite me inside. I know I should leave. If there is that invitation left open then we'll both be screwed and not in the good way. Not in the good way at all. Brittany twists the key in the lock then turns immediately to face me. The light from her window shows a hopeful glint in her eyes.

"I don't want you to go," she says it in a rush. Like a confession.

I almost sigh at the lack of an invitation but then catch myself. I can't want this. But I do. The blood I tasted in my dream wasn't real but I can't help being curious to know if my imagination was close.

"Brittany—"

"Come inside?"

And there it is. An explicit invitation from one Brittany S Pierce for one Santana 'blood sucking fiend' Lopez to come inside her home. If I was a stronger person, if I wasn't a weak, monster I could say no.

Then Brittany kisses me.

{S&B}

It's poor form to kiss her unawares I know, but I just couldn't stand there watching Santana be all gorgeous and nervous and shy dimples without kissing her. I grab at the collar to her coat so she can't squirm away without giving this a chance. I pull her into me and press my lips firmly into hers. Her lips are cool but soft. She lets out a surprised squeak, her whole body tensing but I don't let go. She keeps her hands away from me, like shes's afraid to touch me but she tilts her head, leaning into the kiss so I can stop pulling at her. She leans in more as I shift the angle. I grin into her mouth when she adjusts to match. Her hands stay away from me like she's afraid to touch but I close my eyes and lean my body more into hers anyway.

I run my hands over her shoulders, down the length of her arms. I reach for her hands and place both of them on my hips. She sucks in a stuttering breath but I don't let her pull away. Instead, I drape my arms over her shoulders to keep her close as I lick my tongue out to taste her lips. She almost growls as she pushes me back into my own front door and kisses me forcefully back.

I'm reminded of the animal woman that leaped between me and the wolf pack and I love it. All the taught control is gone as Santana lets her body press fully against me. I have to pull away for breath and Santana immediately buries her nose against the hinge of my jaw. I push my fingers into her hair as she breathes in deep. She breathes in again and as my fingers press into the base of her skull I feel a vibration coming from her chest. I push my fingers more firmly against the back of her neck and the low rumble becomes audible. She's purring like she did that day in the woods. She's just breathing and purring and holding me tight against the door. I have no idea what's going on but I'm pretty sure I love it.

{S&B}

Brittany just keeps petting the back of my head and my neck and I'm completely powerless to stop her. I'm purring and nuzzling and holding her tight. I want to stay holding onto her forever.

"San?"

She says my name and I finally come back to myself. I push abruptly away from her.

"Sorry, San. Wait." Brittany holds both hands out in front of her. She's trying to calm me like I might startle too easily.

I will startle easy. I can't keep letting us do that. I can still taste her lips. Her smell and her warmth linger with me and make me want to pull her back into my arms; I want to snuggle back into hers.

I feel like I should take a deep breath to calm myself down but I resist the human urge. I don't need any more of Brittany getting into me.

"Sorry," I say not able to make eye contact with her.

"That's... Okay." Brittany sounds more curious than freaked out which I'm glad of.

"I'll just..." I jerk my thumb over my shoulder.

"No please stay. Please?"

I could groan aloud at how unfair this girl is with her 'please's. Instead I just nod, looking at the ground. I can practically feel the heat of Brittany's grin as she spins to open the door to her apartment. I still don't have to go inside though. Maybe once she's inside in the warmth I can just make my hasty exit. I can say I'm going to work and not even think about—

Oh my god, Gus.

That fuzzy giraffe blanket is just laying on the end of Brittany's little two seater couch like he's meant to be there. But he's not meant to be there. He is Brittany's of course but he also belongs with me. He could keep away my stupid horror-nightmares of death. Right?

Brittany walks in leaving the door open for me and I cross the threshold barely even noticing the warm little tingle that spreads under my skin at gaining access to her home.

I'm immediately engulfed in the smell and warmth of Brittany. It isn't a physical warmth so much as a general presence; a Brittany-ness that infuses the space. I can't help but soak it in, closing the door behind me to keep all that warmth in.

Brittany walks over to the bed where her giant bear of a cat is lying sleeping. I walk over to Gus, running my fingertips over the soft, brown fluff. I can see Brittany kneeling down to talk to her cat. I lift up Gus and roll him into a tight bundle. He smells so much like Brittany. Even more than when she first gave him to me. Brittany is mumbling something to the cat so I act quick, shoving the blanket up my shirt, under the back of my jacket.

I freeze as I see Brittany stand in the peripheral of my vision. When I turn back, Brittany has pushed her own coat from her shoulders. Fuck. She was wearing a T-shirt underneath the coat this whole time. I take a step closer to the door as Brittany starts to unwind her scarf from around her neck. On another loop I take another step. The final loop is a third step and then Brittany is pulling off her hat. She tugs at the elastic holding her hair in a messy bun and perfect, golden locks fall gracefully around her shoulders. I swallow, slow and deliberate as saliva pools in my mouth and my fangs drop just a little.

{S&B}

Somewhere between me taking off my coat and me taking off my jacket, Santana has managed to sneak back to my front door. She has her hand on the door knob but I act quick, my wolf pack reflexes letting me get to her quicker than she could expect. I pin her to the door with a gentle but firm hand. She can wriggle out if she wants to but I let her see in my expression how much I don't want her to.

"Where ya goin?" I ask, trying to keep things light

"Work!" Santana blurts out. "Yeah. Um, I mean I have work."

"Now?"

"Well, you know. Monday. I need er, rest and everything."

"Do you not like me Santana?" I desperately pray for one kind of answer but Santana doesn't give me any. "Cause the kissing was pretty hot but..."

Santana's nose does that scrunchy thing that I love. I can't really read her expression though. Not yet. All I know is that she looks tense.

I reach out and stroke a single finger gently between her eyes then down the bridge of her nose to smooth her out. Santana melts into the wall. Like, seriously her body and expression just go so soft, her eyes kind of glazed over. I run my fingertip down her nose again and not only does she smile but the purring starts up again. The purring is just so...

I surge forward to kiss her.

{S&B}

Brittany has some kind of super power. It's like she's methodically locating and taking advantage of my every weakness. I'm powerless against her. She kisses me again and yet again—despite having every intention of leaving, despite my very real fear that I could kill her—I kiss her back. I'm the one to slip my tongue out to touch hers and Brittany responds in kind. I'm purring again. It's not something I control with Brittany. I can't control anything with Brittany.

Eventually Brittany leans back gasping and I find I'm gasping as well. Brittany is still alive. She's alone with me, exposed, vulnerable and still alive.

I have to leave.

I duck out from under her arm. "I had a good night Britt. But I gotta go. Really."

"Can we do something again?" Brittany's eyes are so full of hope. And life.

"Yeah, I guess." I try to reinsert some distance. "If I've got nothing better to do," I shrug. I'm the cliche again.

I'm also an asshole.

Brittany's expression crumbles into a sad pout. An expression I have to fix immediately.

"What about dinner next Friday?" It falls out all in a rush but Brittany understands.

Smiling brightly Brittany nods. "Absolutely. I love dinner. And Fridays."

I fumble for the door knob, gripping it tightly as Brittany rushes forward to quickly peck her lips against mine again.

"Goodnight," she says with another quick kiss.

I get the door open as another sweet kiss lands on my cheek. I want to say goodnight as well but I can't seem to manage it past my stupid grin. She kisses me twice more before I can get to the other side of the threshold and she lets the door come between us.

{S&B}

I fall back against the closed door, my hands clasped under my chin as I squeal silently. I can hear Santana walking away muttering to herself.

"I am so fucked," is the main thing she says.

I laugh through a sigh. "She is so mine."

Santana's footstep falters hesitate like she heard me. "I am so hers," is the last thing I hear her say before the crunch of her boots fades into the distance.


End file.
